Fire and Ice
by 13Nyx13
Summary: The aptitude test: it did not fill me with the anticipatory nervousness that most of my peers felt. I was confident in my home faction- confident that I already knew what my small part in the vast machine that was our social system was. Until I was wrong. Slow burn Eric/OC
1. Prologue

**Fire and Ice**

_Some say the world will end in fire,_

_Some say in ice._

_From what I've tasted of desire_

_I hold with those who favor fire._

_But if it had to perish twice,_

_I think I know enough of hate_

_To say that for destruction ice_

_Is also great_

_And would suffice._

_-Robert Frost_

**Prologue**

I never thought I was anything other than Erudite. I had never even considered the other options. I was too curious to be selfless, too calculating to be peaceful, hiding too many secrets to be honest and too rational to be considered brave. But with increasing frequency as of late, I was _wrong_.

I suppose I should have noticed it. Looking back I can see with the startling clarity my previous faction was known for, that my past was riddled with impulsivity that I was barely able to mask as inquisitiveness. I was never as studious as my peers; instead of reading about how two chemicals would react, I would mix them myself. Instead of calculating the amount of force needed to jump across the roofs on the housing district, I would take a flying leap and then pick myself up and try again. This curiosity was never exactly discouraged because some of the greatest minds in the pre-faction and faction world made their discoveries out of their own experiments, not just reading about the theories of others. Some of my friends thought I was crazy, but it wasn't hard to be considered wild when pre-faction science earned you a reputation of 'daring'.

But now, standing just outside the testing room, the Abnegation woman's soft voice echoing in my mind, revealing my results, I can see all of it. I can see the exact moments that inquisitiveness turned into daring. I can even attribute that first moment where I crossed that line to a name: Alexander Ferraris.

**A/N: Hi everyone. I just recently watched the Divergent movie and read the book, and loved them both! So I decided to write my own Divergent story. This will be an Eric/OC story, but it will be a slow burn. **

**This is just the prologue, so it is a lot shorter then regular chapters will be. **

**My personal life is extremely busy (I didn't think I'd have time for another story, but this just kept nagging at my mind), so I don't have an exact update schedule. **

**Please Review and let me know what you think. **


	2. Transform

**Chapter 1:**

"_We do not see things as they are,_

_We see things as we are."_

_-Anais Nin_

My childhood in Erudite was pleasant. It contained just enough deviation from an orderly routine that I was never bored. I would attend school at the Hub with all the other faction dependents. After school I would either go to the Erudite Headquarters and peruse the stacks with my friends, picking out books at random to pour over, or go to my father's private lab and conduct my own experiments, _or_ wander the city (a habit that neither of my parents approved of). I was an only child, but never lonely.

At the age of twelve every Erudite dependent is expected to attend two night classes a week in a course of their choosing. This is to help us decided on what future careers we are suited for after initiation. And this is where I veered sharply from the path of getting one of those jobs. And it was all because of Alexander Ferraris.

He was like my gateway drug into the differing version of me. I had heard about him in the papers and from my father since I was ten years old. Alexander was a child prodigy, even by Erudite standards. He finished public faction schooling when he was ten, instead of the regular sixteen and then went on to study chemical engineering. On top of that, he took every single elective night course Erudite had to offer. Naturally at his choosing ceremony, he chose to stay with Erudite and became the youngest engineer ever employed at the research facility. But what shocked everyone was that when he turned seventeen he began teaching night courses in sociology as well.

I was fifteen the first time I met Alexander in person. Or Professor Ferraris as I had to call him at the time. I had already taken every elective night course in core science that was available, and was not happy about having to take social science. Humans never fascinated me quite like chemistry did. I was slouched in the theatre style seat, close to the back of the room, a lemon lime soda at my feet and tapping my pencil impatiently when he strode in the door. He was so _young_, as young looking as some of the initiates, yet he moved through room with the confidence that every fully- fledged member Erudite seemed to carry. He set a pristine briefcase down before straightening his navy tie, and giving the lecture hall of two hundred plus students a small smile.

Chatter about his arrival had broke out around me: _"I heard that he is only eighteen!" "This is his second year teaching, my brother had him last year and said he's amazing" "That man could read the cafeteria menu and I'd still listen"_

The had talking abruptly stopped when he said, "Good evening class, my name is Professor Ferraris, and I will be teaching you Sociology 104: Human Stimulants."

I remember straightening in my seat as my mind became perked with interest. Chemistry dealt with stimulants, and how the brain reacted to them. This class would just be a continuation about how the rest of the body would react too. Thinking that maybe this class wouldn't be quite so bad after all I perched in my seat, fully attentive. I remember every word of that lecture. Because it was like nothing I had ever heard before. There were no monotone speeches about finite answers and universal results. Professor Ferraris spoke of the exceptions, the possibilities, the infinite, and it lit a spark within me.

"What are some human stimulants?" he had questioned the class.

My peers had studiously responded with answers such as 'caffeine, adrenalin, and allergens.'

Professor Ferraris had shaken his head with a crooked smile on his face, as if he had expected those very answers. "While you are all correct, I meant _emotional_ stimulants." I could feel the entire class' faces fill with puzzled expressions. He continued, "music, poetry, art, _love_ are all stimulants."

And I remember with vivid clarity the dead silence that had followed his statement. Erudites were not immune to emotion, we were still _human _after all and it is in human nature to feel. But as our leader, Jeanine Mathews has stated, 'human nature is the root of all evil', so our faction tended to favor logic over emotion. And what Professor Ferraris had been explaining felt slightly rebellious, and very forbidden.

And so I raised my hand.

He had looked surprised, but gestured for me to speak.

"But is it not the point to avoid these stimulants to decrease the risk of sentiment?" I had asked, comforted by the knowledge that many of my peers appeared to be thinking along the same lines.

His smile had become slightly more genuine, "Sentiment is _unavoidable_. And if exercised properly, should be encouraged."

My fifteen-year-old self could not understand his reasoning. Everything that I had read had told me that human's fallibility lied in sentiment- it was Helen and Paris' love that started the Trojan War, Rome's greed that defeated their empire, plain bloodlust that ignited World War III. Some of the teenage relationships I had witnessed at school where males had manipulated females sexually, only later to snub them had determined to me that even in this perfected society, sentiment was the enemy.

So I uttered a phrase that I'd been raised to despise, "I don't understand."

Professor Ferraris' smile never left his face. "Humans crave approval and acceptance. We work harder to gain respect from others. When others challenge us, we seek to do better. These sentiments all stimulate the human body. But so do abstract things, like art, literature, music- they inspire us."

"Inspire us to do what?" a boy near the front of the classroom had asked.

"_Anything_," Professor Ferraris had answered.

And now that I'm reflecting back on this moment, I recognize that with that statement, he had lit a spark within me. I was still logical, I probably always will be. But his words were so _appealing_- it was like he just given me the key to a thousand locked doors. If sentiment were a stimulant, which provided infinite results, I would have to explore this concept further. Which is exactly what I did.

I had left the class in a pensive mood, and spent the night quietly thinking over his lecture in my mind. My parents never disturbed me while I was in my room because the expectation was that I would be concentrating on learning. The next day at school I had remained quieter then usual, choosing to observe the students from other factions interact around me. Which sentiments they were displaying, why and what would it achieve them?

The Amity dependents clad in their rust red and yellow clothing were the easiest to deduce. I don't think they had a manipulative bone in their bodies. They strived for laughter and comfort. Their singing at lunchtime provoked happiness, and their constant touching reassured a familial bond. Sentiment made them calm. In many ways, like the professor had said, that was a positive trait.

My eyes had searched through the grey clad stiffs of Abnegation. They never looked at their reflections in the windows, they never quite met your eye while speaking, and they were the first to help you, even when it was not really needed. They strived to help others. Their motivations were purely internal, but once again positive, even if I would never quite understand them.

The stark black and white uniforms of the Candor dependents never usually caught my eye, but their mouths did. I had always believed that Candor was the simplest faction. A person, who is honest all the time, must not have anything of interest to hide. Erudites kept secrets, we liked to believe that we knew or noticed everything, some things which should never be said aloud. Candors argued, but they also listened to each other. Competitiveness, along with pride was their stimulant.

And finally my eyes strayed to the last faction outside of my own. One would think people clad in mostly black attire would fade in, but the Dauntless dependents wouldn't allow it. With their brightly coloured hair, multiple piercings and loud or unexpected movements, they were _always_ noticeable. It was easy to determine the sentimental stimulants in Dauntless; like Candor they were motivated by competitiveness and pride. But they held themselves differently. As if they were at complete ease with their bodies and minds, totally and completely free. Before their gruff exteriors had stifled my curiosity, now it intrigued me.

After observing the other factions at school, I had decided to return to Erudite Headquarters and continue exploring Professor Ferraris' hypothesis (because surely it was not a proven theory). Music, literature, art he had said, all provoked sentiment. I began with art. I poured over art history books, my eyes greedily scanning each image. And in those moments I lost myself to a sentimental feeling. The stories each image told were powerful and my emotions shifted with each turn of the page. Some of the pieces built a fierce yearning in me- I wanted to bathe in the sea, I wanted to fly without restraint, I wanted to question the muses, I wanted my emotions to reflect the ones staring stark and unashamed in front of me in the pages. He was right- I was _inspired_. I could think of a hundred different machines to create in order to fly unrestricted, or work on discovering a new water source to submerge myself in. I had even wanted to inflict my persona on people around me in some kind of social experiment.

But Erudites were not supposed to feel such candid emotions when it came to work. We were curious and resourceful. We sought out knowledge just to know it, make new inventions for sport. We did not do these things because of sentiment. This new knowledge of art and the feelings that accompanied it had awoken fervor within me. I wanted _more_. Sentiment had become a drug that I would become addicted to- and as with all addictions it became dangerous.

I neglected my experiments at my father's lab and research with my friends after school in favour of digging through art books. They had fascinated me and my own reactions to them also intrigued me. I was hooked on the feelings aroused within me by these images. Each picture that was displayed- nature, family, love, lust, violence and death reeled me in. I had spent the rest of the weekend quietly exploring my newest fascination. My parents did not question what I was studying as long as I looked busy, which I was.

I remember being so excited for the next lecture I arrived early, wanting to show Professor Ferraris my discoveries- that I now understood his reasoning and shared an interest. I waited for him outside of the lecture-hall, my backpack heavily leaning against my feet. I had heard his purposeful footsteps before I saw him. I watched him arrive with intrigue. His sharp navy suit looked almost too mature against his youthful features. He didn't wear glasses like most of the Erudite males, which better showcased shockingly blue eyes. His olive skin and slightly curled raven hair combined with his last name hinted at original Italian origin. Not that origin mattered anymore- only faction.

He had looked surprised to see me there, but smiled. "Good evening, I remember you from my last lecture."

I remember feeling slightly nervous, but like any other member of my faction, I knew how to disguise the anxiousness with confidence. "Good evening Professor, my name is Lyra James." I held out my hand to shake.

And now that I am completely familiar with what his facial expressions, I recognize that he was intrigued by me.

He shook my hand and offered a crooked smile. "Is there anything I can help you with Miss James?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I did some research on emotional stimulants." He had looked slightly surprised, probably due to the obvious skepticism I displayed the week before. "And I've been amazed at what I've found. I have only really begun exploring Renaissance art so far, but its brilliant!"

His eyes had brightened at that statement, making him look even more youthful than eighteen. We had continued chatting until more students flooded the building, waiting on his lecture. And after my research, I was eagerly waiting on it too. He spoke of how abstract concepts affect each person differently. His words were zealous, revealing that even though he was an engineer, this was his true passion. I remember being surprised at how obvious he was with his interest. How was this not frowned upon? But then again, being a genius had clearly given him more privileges then the rest of us.

For three weeks I had gone to lectures early, and left late so I could speak to him about art. The same passion he had for the subject mirrored in my own eyes. It wasn't until the fourth week that I had realized my attraction to him. It happened before class when he was fervently describing Botticelli's _The Birth of Venus_ that I had found myself studying him. His features were almost perfectly symmetrical; he had prominent cheek- bones, beautiful colouring, and full lips for a man. I hadn't even realized my staring until he had stopped talking and was tilting his head curiously at me. I had blushed, agreed with whatever he had said and rushed into the lecture hall.

And his words that I normally clung to did not penetrate my mind that night. I was too busy self-diagnosing. I knew logically that sexual attraction would happen to me sometime soon. I was nearing the end of puberty at almost sixteen, and my hormones had not yet calmed down. But to actually feel the tingling in my belly, the sweat of my palms, the raised flesh on my neck was a new experience. I knew that if I had looked in the mirror, my pupils would have been dilated too.

It was logical for me to be attracted to him. He was handsome, intelligent, we shared a common interest and he held authority. But for that very last reason he was _forbidden_. And something very un-Erudite melted in my stomach at the thought of that. But I was bordering sixteen and didn't know how to deal with my attraction, so for the first time in weeks I had left the lecture on time, blending into the sea of my peers before he could stop me.

I still diligently pursued my art research, but I was distracted by my thoughts about him. One night I found myself doing something I had never done before- I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom, staring at my naked body. Erudites are not particularly vain, caring far more for intellect than appearance, but we did take a small amount of pride in keeping our outer shells immaculate. I remember looking over my body with a critical eye. I was of average height for my age with pale skin and light green eyes. My natural hair was midnight coloured and curly, but when I turned thirteen my mother informed me that curly hair looked uncouth, and so it was chemically straightened once a month. My raven locks were cut into a sleek bob, which matched my mother's auburn one. My body was proportioned well, the promise of more prominent curves to come. But my cheeks still held a child's fullness, and I lamented the fact that someone older and smarter than me would never return my attraction.

And I remember giving myself a strict scolding as I pulled my clothes back on. That I should not have been letting a man effect me so much. I resolved to ignore my attraction because I truly enjoyed our discussions. But that advice was harder to follow as the next night class drew closer. I hadn't shown up early that night to chat. And when I had sat down in my regular seat, I felt his electric eyes on me. I listened to every word throughout his lecture, but also worked up the courage to linger behind after class like I normally would.

As the class had drawn to a close, I remained in my seat as the rest of the students fled to the doors, with only one or two pupils staying behind to ask questions. And after they had cleared the room, I finally moved towards him."

"I do not understand your theory about humans. If heartbreak causes such painful emotions then why do we chase after love knowing its effects?" I had questioned, keeping my interest purely professional. Once again I did not realize the truly intimate nature of that question.

Professor Ferraris had stayed silent for a moment, observing me. I had held down the impulse to fidget. He smiled slightly, "Love is an addiction. Once you have had it, you crave it. And even though it can ruin you, you always want it."

I must have had a wide- eyed stare because he chuckled and put his hand on my lower back, guiding me to the exit, "Come to my office, I have some art I want to show you."

Tingles of nervous anticipation had scuttled down my spine and my face warmed at the contact he had made. I had bit my inner cheek to stop myself from blurting out how technically inappropriate this was.

His office had two large windows and a huge desk covered with books and papers. The walls were painted a calming blue. It was a large space for a professor of only one night class. But he had a reputation, and was an asset to the school which apparently came with perks.

"Would you like anything to drink Lyra? Coffee? Tea?"

I had shuffled my feet standing awkwardly just inside the door. "Coffee please."

He smiled at me before pressing some buttons on a new-modeled coffee machine. "You don't mind if I call you Lyra, do you?"

I had shook my head, and took a few more steps into the room, my eyes cataloging everything.

"You can call me Alexander too, you know. Just not in class."

My head had abruptly snapped away form the map of South Africa to his face. I studied him curiously.

"I'd like to think that these conversations we have been having outside of the classroom make us more friends than acquaintances," he explained.

I had smiled at him, "I agree." My heart was beating at a faster than average pace.

"Good!" he said before handing me a mug of coffee, and then rooting through a pile of books on his desk. "This is what I wanted to show you," he said, smoothing out the edges of a worn piece of paper.

I was riveted by what I saw on the paper. Men and women in disarray. Violence, death, sexuality.

"Its Poussin's _Rape of the Sabine Wome_n," Alexander had informed.

I remember my reverent curiosity abruptly turned sour at the word 'rape'. I had never admitted my fascination with the bleaker and most primal parts of human nature out loud before. And even with Alexander as my comrade in art, I still didn't. The difference to me was that some violence was justifiable, rape _never_ was.

Alexander and I had discussed the painting, while drinking our coffees. After I finished mine, I had hurried home, hoping my parents wouldn't ask what took me so long. Lucky for me, my father was spending his night at the lab, and my mother apparently been emergency called in to the hospital that she worked at.

I began meeting with Alexander on weekends in his office, where he introduced me to more art, and then gradually poetry. I was hooked. My friends never questioned where I was, they were more interested in their own lives, and my parents were more married to their work then each other, or me. And as for Alexander- he could have lit a library on fire and still wouldn't be kicked out of the faction.

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and we were both perched near his sun filled windows. Alexander read poetry to me from a crumbling leather journal. And I can remember the poem exactly because of the way it had sounded on his lips:

"_I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair._

_Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets._

_Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day_

_I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps."_

My pulse was hammering and a visible shudder had racked through my body. "What poem is that?"

His eyes had bore into mine, and I met his stare. "It's the first stanza of one of Pablo Neruda's love sonnets." The blue in his eyes were steadily taken over by black as he looked at me. I'm sure mine had looked the same.

One of his hands left the book on his lap and gently pushed a lock of my pin-straight hair behind my ear. "When do you turn sixteen Lyra?"

Sixteen: the year of legal adulthood. On April twenty-first (the first day of the new year) every sixteen year old would take part in the Choosing Ceremony. My birthday was in May, so I would be almost seventeen when I chose my faction. "May second, why?"

Alexander's voice was heavy with something that I hadn't yet recognized as desire, "That is only two months away… I can wait two months."

"Wait for what?"

His blue eyes had been so intense. I had almost wanted to look away, but was ensnared.

"To kiss you."

Two months had never passed so slowly. But as torturous as they had been, they were amazing too. The anticipatory tension between us was driving both my mind and body crazy. Every innocent touch seemed to linger with intent. Every stray glance was loaded. Every word was intense.

My birthday had fallen on a Thursday, a day I attended his night class. I had a nice dinner with my parents, and was even gifted tiny diamond studs.

"The stone that reflects light," my mother informed me.

Thankfully I was in Erudite, or else my parents might have excused me from class to celebrate with my friends. But naturally school came before birthday celebrations, and I couldn't have been more grateful.

I hadn't made it to lecture early due to my family dinner. When I had planted myself in the familiar seat and organized my tablet, I looked up to meet Alexander's blue eyes. He sent me a sly smile, and I had blushed, but smiled back just the same. I impatiently listened to his lecture, and eagerly waited for the rest of my classmates to disappear when it was over.

Alexander hadn't spoken a word to me when he approached. He had just taken my hand and led me to his office, closing and locking the door behind us. When I turned around he had a painting of _Young Lovers on a Swing_ with a small slice of chocolate cake and a single lit candle in it. I had turned back to him, my heart beating in my ears and goosebumps trailing up my spine.

"Happy birthday Lyra," he had said before gently cupping my face and kissing me.

**A/N: Hi everyone, hope you enjoyed the first chapter! There won't be any Eric for a couple of chapters (maybe 2 more) as I need to establish Lyra's back-story. **

**Please Review and let me know what you think!**

**: ) Nyx**


	3. Straight Lines

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I affiliated with Divergent.

**Chapter Two:**

"_I read the rules_

_before I broke _

_them."_

_- Unknown_

Romance was never really something that plagued my mind before Alexander. Even with all the hormones racing through me, I had liked to think I was master over my body. That my intellect and restraint would be able to overcome such juvenile feelings. Boy was I wrong.

I suppose in some ways I can blame my lack of romantic idolizations on my peers. There were no boys in my faction that had caught my eye before Alexander. Everyone was too concentrated on themselves to invest in another, especially as a teenager. And Erudite boys always seemed boring- trying to woo their partners was like trying to woo investors on their 'brilliant' ideas. And I never even considered boys from any other factions.

Despite being all about free love, Amity boys seemed painfully shy, while Abnegation ones were always painfully oblivious- not to mention their ideals on relationships. The bluntness of Candor was never appealing, and while I always appreciated honesty, I had a healthy respect for verbal filters. And the brightly coloured mohawks, tattoos and various facial piercings of the Dauntless boys had never attracted me.

It had seemed like I floated through all the other aspects of puberty without developing a sexual attraction. Sure I knew about sex- it was taught in health class at the Hub, and brought up in various clinical ways in Erudite teachings. But it had never really affected me. So this new relationship with Alexander was like an electrical shock to my system.

We would meet in secret after classes and on the weekends. And eventually migrated from his office to his apartment. It was difficult sneaking around in Erudite, as there was cameras- hidden and in plain view everywhere, but we managed. I became addicted to the feel of his lips on my lips, lips on my body, hands in my hair. I also felt a streak of pride knowing I affected him so intimately too.

It began with just kisses. Toe-curling kisses, but simple kisses all the same. Alexander had told me that he didn't want to rush me into anything I was not comfortable with. But if anything, I was the one to push for more. Moist lips on my lips had ignited my blood, causing ecstasy to thrum through my veins. Closed mouth kisses had quickly turned into open mouth kisses, and my favourite new hobby was wrapping my tongue around his tongue.

But my body still insisted on more.

And soon kisses left lips, and his hot mouth would trail down my neck, teeth lightly nipping my collar- bone. I was addicted to the way he made my body feel. I couldn't believe the disdain that I formerly held for sexuality because now I couldn't imagine _not _feeling this way. When I couldn't meet him I was constantly thinking about him. My rational mind was becoming plagued by this man.

Thankfully I did not let my studies fail, or else someone would have probably caught onto us. My thoughts may have been tangled up in Alexander Ferraris, but I was still the same logical girl who would not let her work slip because of a boy, no matter how he had affected me. But I could not deny that work seemed less intriguing now. My passions lay with art, poetry, history, and _him_.

Alexander was ever the teacher and enjoyed both exploring and teaching me about my own body. He knew where to lightly brush his fingers, where to trail his tongue, where push and where to pull to garner a response from me. It was thrilling and I soaked in his teachings like a sponge.

But what was even better than learning about my own responses to his touch was learning about _his _responses to my touch. Logically I knew about both male and female anatomy. I could clinically determine where the body had the most nerve endings that would stimulate pleasure. But to actually explore these facts with Alexander as my test subject was thrilling. I loved teasing his body to the brink and then watch him unravel because of _my _actions.

We had spent three months learning each other before taking the plunge. Unsurprisingly, I knew the statistics about sex. Most women did not enjoy losing their virginity due to pain. But once the pain faded, and if the lover was knowledgeable about female anatomy, sex for women could have multiple 'happy endings'. But Alexander had made sure that we worked our way up to that. It had driven me crazy! I was so impatient to finally feel all of him. I remember when he finally gave in.

"This weekend," he had said, kissing my naked shoulder, "come stay with me."

I had looked into those impossibly blue eyes and smiled slightly victorious. I nuzzled into his chest and kissed his adams apple, "You're _finally_ giving in to me?"

He chuckled deeply, "What can I say, you _seduced_ me."

I had smiled giddily into his chest and traced patterns on his sternum. "I'll have to think of an excuse for my parents."

He had rolled us over, so he was on top of me, arms braced on either side of my bare torso. He swooped down to kiss just above my right breast. "_Just_," another kiss, "_tell_," more kisses, "_them_" my back arched, "_you_" his hot mouth scorching over my skin, "_are_" a sinful tongue, "_studying_."

The conversation had been cut short, but nevertheless I had known his excuse would work on my parents. And it did, not that I had even needed it. I had fed them some obvious bullshit excuse about an astronomy project. They nodded their heads, wishing me clarity of the mind for my nocturnal studies. They were both spending their respective weekends at their true homes: their work.

I had packed a small overnight bag and then practically sprinted to Alexander's apartment. We spent the afternoon lazing around on the couch, drinking coffee and perusing art. He had shown me scandalous paintings and read me banned poetry. And after a horrible dinner of Alexander's rations that neither of us were particularly good at cooking, we had retired to his bedroom.

For the first time since that first kiss, I remember feeling nervousness along with my excitement. He had cupped my face and kissed me softly. I had clung to his blue shirt and pulled him in closer, deepening our kiss. He responded, opening his mouth and exploring my body with his hands. I remember being backed into his bed, while he shed all of my clothes and worked me into a frenzy. His clothes had eventually joined the pile and I was encompassed by smooth flesh, perfect and unmarred.

And I remember him saying, "And now you are mine, and I am yours," before entering me.

I remember pain- a sharp stinging pain at first that sprung tears to my eyes. But after the initial shock it turned into a dull throbbing pain. But Alexander, being ever the genius found ways to distract me from the stinging, until all I could feel was pleasure.

The next day he had drawn me a bath with healing oils to help ease my soreness. And then crawled in the large tub behind me. We chatted about everything and debated scientific theories. And when I felt up to it, there was round two _and _round three. It was the best day of my life. And I hated that it had to end with my departure.

I had known realistically that I didn't, but standing at Alexander's door, getting ready to trudge back to my house, I asked him anyways, "Do I look different?"

His crooked smile had warmed my insides, "You look beautiful and well loved to me. But to your parents you will look the same. We see what we want to see." He placed one last breathtaking kiss on my lips that made leaving all the harder, before shooing me out the door.

I had behaved perfectly normal that night at dinner. I gave my false report on the stars, and inquired into my mother and father's respective jobs.

"At the end of the August we will attending hospital function for the new anesthetic that I helped develop," my mother had informed me.

I had sat up straighter. Erudites never held parties for the sake of socializing. We threw parties either to brag about a new accomplishment that would hopefully help a person's status climb a few rungs on the social ladder, or to network (for the same purpose). I remember thinking it would be beneficial for me to attend this party, so I could start making contacts for future prospects.

"I look forward to it," I had said, and my mother graced me with one of her rare smiles.

Those days had passed by slowly, which was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand I enjoyed my escapades with my secret lover. It had made everything feel so dangerous and exciting (that really should have been a hint). But I also couldn't wait until I completed the Choosing Ceremony and could be with Alexander in public. To hold his hand in Headquarters and claim that this wonderful man had picked _me_. My classes with him had slowly been drawing to a close too, and I would no longer have a reason to be spending so much time with him.

We had lain together one night, his sheets pooled around our waists, and the moonlight illuminating the bedroom through a sunroof.

I had asked him, "What will happen to us after class is over?"

He trailed a finger down my waist, tickling the sensitive skin there. His blue eyes were filled with warmth, a small smile played on full lips. "We will be very sly until your initiation. Thankfully, I have no part in that process, so I am allowed to have a public relationship with you."

I had returned his smile, happy that he had been thinking about our future together too. "I don't want to damage your reputation if anyone hints about you being unprofessional," I said, worrying my lower lip. At the time, I had never even considered the damage that it would do to my own reputation.

His hand had brushed over my fuller bottom lip, and my teeth immediately released it. "We will be fine," he said, before kissing all of my doubts away. Or at least away from the surface of my mind.

Alexander was always so smart and mature, that I never even considered how naïve his statement was. Not until now.

But it was difficult. And it had only become more difficult when Sociology 104 was over. My parents had been very pleased when I passed the course will full marks, but couldn't understand why I was so miserable. My time with Alexander had been reduced significantly, as he was busy prepping for other classes, and I had more and more exams to prepare for. We had managed a few hours a week, sneaking around in his office, and my room when my parents were away. But as with all new relationships it just hadn't seemed like enough.

The next time that I saw Alexander came as a surprise. It was at my mother's hospital function. I was dressed in a sophisticated blue pencil skirt and white silk blouse, looking much more adult than when I was clad in my dependant uniform. I had dutifully stood next to my parents and watched my mother be praised. Her normally cold smile had been fixed with triumph.

Right before dinner my father had wandered off with some of the other men from his lab and a group of hospital ladies had swarmed around my mother. They all seemed delighted when they heard about my age.

"Are you excited for you aptitude test?" a woman with sharp cheekbones and a brown pixie cut had asked me.

I smiled plastically, "I look forward to it, but I already know where I belong."

"What night class are you taking? Elizabeth said you were not in her biohazards class?" my friend Liz's mom had asked.

My smile had turned slightly more genuine at just the thought of him. "I took Human Sociology with Professor Ferraris."

Thin brows had disappeared into fluffy hairlines. "_Alexander _Ferraris' class?" my mother's coworker, Cynthia had asked.

I had nodded, feeling slightly smug.

"Just the man we're speaking of," another woman said, gesturing across the room, to where most of the men from the lab had congregated.

"He has certainly grown into a handsome young man," my mother said, sending a sideways glance at me.

I remember the slight panicked feeling spasm through my nerves. How I kept reminding myself: there was no way she could possibly know.

"He is reaching that age where he will soon pick a wife," the pixie cut lady said.

It had felt as though ice had curdled in my stomach. And I had experienced another first as I spoke out of turn, "He is still awfully _young_ for marriage."

All the women in the group had swung their heads around to face me. I wanted to swallow back the words, but instead held my head high and locked my eyes with them.

"Sweetie," Liz's mom had said with condescending amusement, "All men and women are expected to marry around his age. The earlier you marry, the less time you waste looking for a spouse and can concentrate on more important matters, like work. And then when the woman hits her prime, she will already have a man to impregnate her. It's simpler that way."

I remember loathing those words. They had sounded so cold and clinical- everything marriage was not meant to be. No passion, no spontaneity, no _love_- it was like a life checklist. Tick the box when you have found someone whose life was compatible with your own.

"And perhaps he has just found a contender," my mother had said, her sharp nails digging into my arm- a physical sign of the reprimand that she could never verbally give me in public.

But I had ignored her talons, as my head spun around again to watch him. A beautiful blonde girl- no, woman, who was obviously a fully- fledged Erudite member had approached him. She had uncharacteristically long white blonde hair. Miles of legs were made even longer by simple black heels that all the other fully- fledged women were wearing. She was my absolute antithesis. A willowy figure wrapped in a blue dress that was allowed to flirt with my lover in public.

And in that moment I truly realized how little control I truly had over my body. I had felt boiling anger bubble inside me, my cheeks visibly reddened.

"Who is she?" pixie cut had inquired.

"That's Caroline Lumley. She transferred from Candor three years ago. Lovely girl, she works in the archives," Cynthia replied.

"Well don't they make a handsome match," my mother had said, her eyes trained on me instead of the couple.

I had barely even noticed though, my eyes too riveted on the scene in front of me. Alexander had said something, and Caroline threw her swan neck back in laughter, a frail hand grasping his arm. I had watched Alexander listen to her, an expression of bored disdain never gracing his beautiful features.

By the time we had sat down for dinner, I had felt almost nauseous with the thoughts and emotions racing around inside of me. I wanted to puke, cry, scream, and make a scene. But Erudites did none of thee above (even the teenagers), so I had calmly taken my place between my parents. And I had watched Alexander's face morph into shock when he tucked into the seat across the table from me. A mischievous smile had stolen his lips, but I couldn't find it in myself to return it when _she _slid into the spot beside him.

And there I had to sit throughout dinner. Across from my secret lover, and the blonde goddess who was trying to cajole him into a date. I had never felt so young and self-conscious as I had at that moment. Rationally, I knew I was jealous. She was pretty, charming, and the right age. I hadn't feel like I shared any of those attributes that night. And I didn't care that jealousy was a primal and irrational feeling because it didn't change the fact that I still felt it.

But I had noticed how he did not respond, at least _romantically _to her. In fact, I had noticed everything about every one of their encounters. I watched every moment, and every word out of the corner of my eye, whilst trying not look too obvious (especially under my mother's hawk eye) and eat dinner. I do not think I was overly successful though because when Caroline had playfully run a finger across Alexander's neck, I had adopted a white-knuckle grip on my cutlery. And not even a minute later I felt his foot trail up my leg. My green eyes had locked with his blue, and he sent me a look full of sympathetic apology. And with that look my anger had lost its bite. All I had wanted to do was go home.

As I had approached the coat rack, ready to find my simple trench and scurry back to the solitude of my home, an arm had snaked around my waist. The crisp clean scent of Alexander's cologne had been the only thing to stop me from screaming.

"_A beauty is a woman you notice; a charmer is one who notices you_," his hot breath had quoted in my ear, before sampling the skin there with a kiss.

I had turned around, a half smile feebly on my face, but before I could get any words out, Alexander was gone and my father was passing me my coat.

The car ride home had been silent. The only thing that had been audible was the rain-drops on the windshield, and the slight purr of the engine. My mother had not spared me a glance as she walked straight to her bedroom. My father veered in the opposite direction, to his office. I had flopped down on my bed and thought over the events of the night. I thought over what Alexander had whispered in my ear. A _charmer _seemed much more dangerous than a beauty though, and with that unpleasant realization, I had fallen into a fitful sleep.

The next time I had saw him, he did not bring up the event, and neither did I. And since then we have never spoken about that night. The vulnerable feelings had been too uncomfortable for me.

School had become more and more restless as we came closer to the short end of term break. Amity needed their children to help them collect the final harvest of crops, and Abnegation needed their children to sort and hand out the supplies. And as with every near end, the students at my school had become more chaotic, chomping at the bit with the promise of near freedom.

One particular instance stands out in my mind, especially now. I had been travelling through the congested hallway, my eyes more intent on my notes then the area in front of me. So naturally I had tripped and my numerous papers had went flying. But when I had noticed the combat boot in front of my, I knew my fall was not so accidental.

"Watch where you're going _noser!"_

Noser: short for brown noser. Many other factions liked to refer to Erudites as this. But what they hadn't quite figured out was that we didn't mind. Mockery almost always equated to low self-esteem and jealousy. And it had made sense that every other faction was jealous of what my faction had accomplished.

I had looked up from my squatted position on the ground, as I started to gather my papers. It was a tall Dauntless boy with lime green spiked hair and snakebite piercings that had taunted me. A couple of his friends were laughing beside him.

And I had known that as an Erudite, I was expected to take the high road and not respond to their taunting. It would be immature and un lady-like to reciprocate. But _I just couldn't help myself. _

"It is so very brave of you," I had said in my most pristine voice, "to knock a much smaller female to the ground. Really, I can see why you are such an asset to your faction acting like a bully, not a _protector_," I sneered. I was fairly sure that there was nothing Chicago needed protecting from.

His laughter had abruptly stopped, and an ugly grimace took over his wild face. Just as he came stomping over though, a horde of Abnegation students swarmed around me, all dropping to their knees to gather my notes. I accepted them gratefully from a handsome boy with blonde hair and green eyes, and he smiled shyly at me. But I was much more focused on the warm triumphant feeling of watching the angry Dauntless dependent storm away, pride insulted.

I don't know how I didn't recognize all these little incidents adding up ever since I met Alexander. Did he change me? Make me more careless, more daring? Or was I was like this, just more accustomed to suppressing it, or expressing it in socially acceptable ways? It was just one of the questions racing around in my mind.

**A/N: Hello everyone, I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. I tried to show Lyra's somewhat neurotic personality- girl over thinks **_**everything**_**! Eric will be showing up soon!**

**Thank you to all the new followers, I am glad that people are reading this story. And especially thank you to all the people who reviewed, I really really love hearing your feedback. **

**I just have one question, a reviewer said they hope my story doesn't turn into a r*** fic. What is an r***?**

**Please Review and let me know what you think!**

**Nyx**


	4. Choices

Disclaimer: I do not own or am affiliated with Divergent

**Chapter 3:**

_"Our anxiety does not come_

_from thinking about the future,_

_but from wanting to control it."_

_-Kahlil Gibran_

After school had ended at the Hub, I had more free time than I had known what to do with. Alexander still had his engineering job during the day, and most of my friends had applied and got accepted to internships. Something that I normally would have done too, but it had completely slipped my mind with everything that had been going on in my personal life. So I unintentionally began a new hobby- running.

It had been a warm Tuesday afternoon and I was cooped up alone in my parent's house. Everyone was busy, except for me. I tried reading, studying, going through art books, but nothing had really held my attention. My mind was buzzing. So I had decided to go for a walk near the fence.

I had just reached the end of Erudite housing district, my mind distracted with contemplations about what would happen if my parents found all my art books when I saw her. _Caroline Lumley_. I hadn't seen her in the months since that dinner party. She was just getting out of a car with an environmental developer. The unforgiving sunlight had lit up her beautiful features. And I remember thinking irrationally cruel things about her. And when her light blue eyes had met mine, I turned and ran.

I hadn't cared that I was still in my uniform, or that my flats were not really meant for physical activity. I just sprinted away from her and all the insecure feelings she aroused within me. And with each pump of my legs, I had felt the buzz of whirling thoughts leave my head. My lungs had burned, and my feet had blistered, but I felt free.

The next day my body had protested my impromptu run, and I knew that it would be a good idea to let my muscles recover. So I had dug through my closet looking for my exercise gear. Erudites were expected to complete at least thirty minutes of physical activity a day (not that they necessarily did). 'In order to keep the mind healthy, one must keep the body healthy' my mother would quote any time I protested leaving the library. I felt better about that now, as I pulled out exercise clothes in varying shades of blue and running shoes.

And thus my new and much healthier addiction of running had started. And once again it was partially because of Alexander Ferraris.

Thinking back I am almost disgusted at how my new hobby had begun. I hate that I felt the need to run away from Caroline. Why did I let one woman effect me so much? Sure, she may have flirted with Alexander, but I was the one that he spent his time with. I was the one he shared his passion of poetry, art and music with. And perhaps most importantly I was the one who shared his bed- _not her_. I should have felt more confident with myself.

But I can't deny that I am happy that I did run that day, or else I would never have discovered the endorphin high and clarity of the mind that came with it. My parents had been shocked and confused when they discovered my new habit.

"You have been acting so strange lately," my father had commented when he took in my sweaty face and running clothes.

I had explained that running was good for the body (conveniently forgetting to mention that I had vomited repeatedly after my first few runs) and help my mental stimulation. I had then prattled off a bunch of statistics that I had researched on my tablet, knowing that this interrogation was bound to happen. My father had nodded his head in intrigued passiveness, but my mother had reluctantly swallowed her scolding, choosing to pursue her lips instead.

I hadn't told Alexander about my new hobby- I had known that he would ask questions that I didn't want to answer. Insecurity was never an attractive quality, and I didn't want him to know that it was my run in with Caroline that had cause me to break out in a sprint.

When classes had resumed, I took to running at night or in the early hours of dawn. I didn't mind the dew coating my sneakers, or the crisp air shuddering through my lungs. When the harsh Chicago winter had eclipsed, I found myself in the lonely gym, feet pounding on the treadmill. The farther I had run, the quieter my mind became. I never would have viewed that as a _good _thing before, but it aroused a strange combination of peaceful exhilaration within me.

I had continued my dalliances with Alexander undetected. Or at least I thought they were still secret, but sometimes I felt my mother's x-ray stare on me while I was feeding her some excuse about group projects or studying. I had just been glad that she was too busy to look into any suspicions she may have been feeling.

Alexander and I had found a comfortable routine of sneaking around. I knew his schedule better than most of my friend's timetables. We would meet at his apartment and look at dramatic literature, poetry, explorations of art, before abandoning the pages and exploring each other. He would croon honeyed words from love sonnets in my ear and my heart would skip a beat.

In the winter Alexander had somehow managed to get his hands on an old- fashioned music player. He had played me pieces by famous composers, a crooked grin on his face. I hadn't had the heart to tell him that I didn't really care for the music; I only cared about the look on his face because he clearly did.

The months had passed by quickly since my sixteenth birthday. I had not really realized how greatly I had changed since that first Sociology 104 class. My friends had for the most part drifted away from me. I had found their conversation rigid and boring and they had found my experiments and radical new interests less and less charming and more childish. It had never occurred to me before that perhaps I too was rigid and boring at one point. Despite the isolation from my peers, I was the happiest I had ever been.

April had snuck up on me though.

My mother had taken time off of work to take me to the hair stylist. "I want you looking pristine for the Choosing Ceremony in two days," she had stated as she drove me to the salon. "Your hair is starting to get a bit straggly, and you inherited your father's dreadful curls!"

I had placidly let the hairstylist chemically straighten and cut an inch off my bob, leaving my hair just brushing my shoulders, but on impulse had asked her to give me side bangs instead of my usual center part. My mother's lips curled slightly downwards at the sight of the new addition to my appearance, but seeing as it wasn't anything _too _wild, she had kept silent. Bangs were better than curls I guess.

I spent a quiet dinner with my parents that night. Both had calmly stated that I would do well on my aptitude test the next day. I accepted it with a smile, but could not understand how anyone could achieve poor results since we were unable to prepare for it. After dinner I had feigned fatigue and then slipped out of my window and off to Alexander's apartment.

He held me naked in his arms and asked me, "Are you nervous for your test?"

I had stolen the grin from his lush lips and entangled our legs together, "No. I know exactly where I belong."

He had smiled sweetly at me before igniting my body with ecstasy.

The morning of my aptitude test I had slipped into my stiff white collard shirt and flouncy blue skirt. Just as I was pulling on my black flats, my mother opened my bedroom door. My eyes had met hers in my mirror, and I watched as she had walked forward, one hand hidden behind her back.

"Good morning," I had cautiously said, wondering if perhaps she had discovered my empty bed sometime in the night.

Instead of returning the greeting, she had pulled a simple, but elegant pair of black heels from behind her back. Only women who were full members of Erudite were allowed to wear them. My eyes had widened at the sight and the small child hidden inside of me warmed at knowing that my parents were confident in my abilities. That not only would I choose my home faction, I would also successfully complete initiation too.

"For when you pass your initiation," my mother had said, and for once her smile hadn't looked so frozen. I had gingerly taken the heels out of her hands and smiled at her thoughtfulness. "Your father wants to take you to get a pair of glasses after initiation."

I had nodded, and uttered a small "thank you," scarcely able to believe my luck.

My mother had clearly been uncomfortable with the moment we had been having, as she quickly straightened her blue blazer, and spine. "Well you best be off to school. Tardiness will not be accepted by the testers."

I sent her a cheeky smile, "I thought all the testers were Stiffs, like they would mind!" before I dashed out the door.

When I had reached the Hub I could practically feel the nervous energy tangible in the air. All of the other factions with their sixteen year old dependents had gathered in the cafeteria, eyes anxiously glancing to the unused classrooms where testing took place every year. Everyone had seemed to be vibrating with energy, and I watched with interest how each faction's dependents dealt with it.

A couple of Amity girls had a banjo out and were strumming it off tune. I had almost snorted with laughter. The Candor table had been debating policies about the factionless at an obnoxiously loud level. The Abnegations had been silent. They did not observe the room, but rather concentrated on their lunches like the rest of us were _supposed _to be doing. The Dauntless had been acting rougher then normal, headlocks and arm punches galore. And finally my own table was filled with low and nervous chatter.

Despite the fact that I wasn't the closest with them anymore, I had been welcomed when I slid into the seat next to Liz. I tried to tune out her boyfriend Victor spitting out every fact he had read about the aptitude test.

When both hands of the clock had hit twelve, a woman in grey Abnegation robes had entered the cafeteria and the chatter quickly died off. She began calling out names by alphabetical order instead of faction.

"Elizabeth Hastings," the woman called.

Liz had calmly stood up, but I caught the glimpse of panic in her brown eyes before she strode away.

I had stopped my observations of the people around me in favor of staring at the clock. I was staring so intensely, and lost in thoughts that I had almost missed the monotone voice call, "Lyra James."

I rose to my feet and had confidently walked to the mysterious room, ready to hear the verbal confirmation of what I had already knew- I belonged in Erudite.

My stride had faltered for a moment when I noticed the ominous medical chair in the center of a room of mirrors. I had briefly caught my eye in the mirror, and randomly noticed that I had finally lost the baby-fat from my cheeks.

"Ahem," a female had coughed.

The Stiff woman clad in her grey dress had almost blended in with the computer equipment. I had not felt bad for not noticing her, as Abnegation members never wanted to stand out.

"If you are ready," she had prompted, gesturing to the medical chair.

I spared my face one last glance, before lying down on the uncomfortable chair.

"My name is Mary. Don't worry, you'll do fine," the women said, as she handed me a vial full of green coloured liquid.

I had studied her kind features for a moment, knowing rationally that nothing would happen to me, but still not quite trusting her or the liquid. But it didn't matter- not completing the test was not an option. So I had taken a deep breath, closed my eyes, and tipped the concoction into my mouth, my tongue briefly rolling at the bitter taste.

When had I opened my eyes, I was still lying on the chair, but the Stiff, the machinery and the mirrors were missing. I had cautiously sat up, my eyes scanning the surroundings. An unpleasant feeling of unease had settled in the pit of my stomach, and I felt the hairs on my neck stand straight.

I had turned my head forward and saw that the door I had walked through to enter the room was slightly ajar, and a child's whimper along a man's malicious laughter reverberated from it.

I slid my legs off the chair, and had stood on the balls of my feet. The room flashed with darkness for a moment, and I had blinked my eyes at the radical change in light. When I reopened them there were two tables in front of me. One held an emergency phone that connected with the Dauntless justice sector and defense soldiers. The other had held a gun, its shiny metal winking my distorted reflection back at me. It looked large and dangerous.

The second that I had heard the child's scream of pain, my mind had been made up. I picked up the gun and quietly crept forward. When I had reached the door, I angled my body, so I could peek inside. My eyes squinted through the darkness, but I had recognized a child's body being crowded by a huge man.

Just as I had been contemplating turning around to grab the phone, whilst remaining silent and hidden from any other possible threats, the man had raised his hand to the child, and my mind went blank. I had thrown open the door, raised my arm and fired the gun. The man had fallen forward, a dark stain spreading on his filthy white tee shirt. As his body had made impact, the entire ground shifted.

I had suddenly been on a tiny platform, thousands of miles above the ground. The air had felt cold and thick. I had to clutch a support beam to stop a big gust of wind from blowing me off the edge. I looked down and noticed a never-ending ladder that would take me to the bottom. I had estimated that with the wind velocity and the cold it would take me three times longer than normal to climb down. Just when I had been calculating how long _down _was exactly; I looked beside me only to notice another person. He had midnight skin and was clad in pure white gauzy clothing.

"Nice day," he had said with a shark-like smile. "How are you going to get down?" he asked.

My green eyes had narrowed on him. "What are my options?"

He had smirked, as if he anticipated that question, "You can climb down," he said, gesturing to the ladder, "wait for someone to come get you, _or_…"

"Or?" I had prompted.

He tilted his head curiously at me. "Or you could jump."

My eyes had widened, and I don't know how long exactly it to me to run through the pros and cons of each option. But my mind was stuck on 'jump'. I thought back to a poem Alexander had read me.

'_The sky is still… but wild edges with light_

_Bluish…high…tight…grey_

_but the branches swirl and deeply breigh_

_beckoning…they are beckoning_

_the night into night_

_Come wild and courageous into fading light _

_Tis just the beckoning beckoning… of night_

My mind had replayed those words spoken in his deep playful voice. And I found my feet at the edge of the platform. Logically I had known that death would be what greeted me at the bottom. But with each inch closer to the edge I got, a sense of excitement filled me. The same way I felt when I was running. And so without another thought, I had leapt off.

My eyes had snapped open, and then squinted at the bright light shining in them. My chest heaved in greedy intakes of air as a figure had moved into my line of vision. Mary. _My aptitude test_.

"Congratulations on completing your aptitude test," Mary had said, a quaint smile on her rather pretty lips.

"My results?" I immediately questioned, holding my breath.

"The aptitude test is designed to put you in different scenarios in order to eliminate factions, until you only have one left- the faction that you are best suited for," Mary explained.

I had nodded impatiently. Any other time I would have found the logistics behind the test fascinating, but not then. All I had wanted to know was my results. "I belong in Erudite, right?"

Mary's expression had become slightly hesitant. "Actually, your decisions in the test resulted in one faction and one faction _only_."

My heart had felt heavy in my chest. "And that faction is?"

"_Dauntless_."

I remained silent for an immeasurable amount of time, until finally, I stood up from the chair and slowly walked out of the room, not even thanking her. My feet felt like lead, my heart was hammering in my chest, and I felt tears prickle in my eyes.

And now as I stand here, just outside of the testing room door, Mary's soft voice echoing '_Dauntless_' in my ears I can see it. I can see the exact moments that my inquisitiveness had turned to daring. That first moment when I crossed the line. And it was all because of Alexander Ferraris. Did I love him or hate him for this?

I was so lost in the chaos that was mind current state of mind, that I jumped when I heard the worried male voice question, "Miss, are you alright?"

A young boy in Abnegation robes stood staring at me, his brows puckered in concern.

"I'm fine," I snapped, and then winced at his taken aback expression. I was not normally so hostile with others, but my mind didn't have any space for niceties and I had had enough of Stiffs witnessing my moments of weakness. "Thanks for your concern," I muttered as I pushed past him and rushed out of the halls.

I was intent on walking home, giving myself time to process what the hell I was going to do, when I heard a voice call, 'Lyra!'

I turned and saw Liz's heart shaped face leaning out the window of a bus. She was waving at me to join her. I sighed, not at all in the mood for company, but now that I had been spotted, I couldn't just ignore her. So I stepped onto the bus just as the doors were closing, and pushed my way through people until I reached her. Liz lifted her jam-packed book bag from the seat next to her, and I sat down.

A wide smile was spread on her freckly face, "I'm so happy L! I can't wait for tomorrow's ceremony," she gushed.

I offered a polite smile, but internally wished that I had at least gotten the window seat, so I could distract myself form her prattling. I heaved a sigh of relief once Liz and I departed at the Erudite housing district.

I walked through the empty halls of my parent's house, eyes categorizing everything. The walls were painted a slate grey and not decorated with any kind of art, just certificates from my parent's numerous achievements. No photographs or mementos to me littered the house- if someone visited they would never be able to tell the James' had a daughter. But still this was my _home_. I had lived here happily for sixteen years.

'_Then why have you been so anxious to leave it lately?'_ a sly little voice in my conscious questioned.

I thought about that for a moment. I suppose I had been absent a lot in the past couple of months. I used to never care where I was as long as I had some lab equipment or a book in my hand. But lately I had been sneaking out to meet Alexander, or running miles away.

_Alexander_- could I really be separated from him?

I slowly walked up to my room, my head spinning as I catalogued everything in sight. My feet moved at an automatic pace as I walked to my closet and pulled out my running gear, methodically pulling it on. I slipped back out of my house, my mind buzzing. But when my feet hit the dirt, I let my body mechanically go through the motions of running, as I tried to rationally calm my mind.

I sometimes thought that Alexander had not really belonged in Erudite. His disposition was too sweet, his passions too artistic to really belong in the faction of cold logic. I thought that he would have thrived in Amity. But I had always thought that he figured that with his genius intellect he had to stay here. But the point was, even though he may have tested for something else, he still stayed. It was still an option! And I knew that I was smart enough to pass initiation.

I hadn't realized I had been running so long, but when I finally returned to my house, it was dark out, and my parent's car was in the drive way.

I walked in the door saw my parents both standing in the kitchen.

"Finally, she returns!" my father said with a big smile.

I felt like a fraud for smiling back. Knowing that he was proud of me for something that I didn't really deserve. That maybe I was not really one of them.

"Go shower and change, then you can join us for dinner," my mother said.

I followed her advice, but once I stepped under the warm spray of the shower, I wanted to linger. I wanted the water to wash away the events of the day, so I could start over tomorrow and change my results. But I knew my parents were waiting, and I knew that no matter what happened tomorrow, it would be at least a month before I would see them again after tomorrow's Choosing Ceremony.

I spent dinner nodding along to my father's reminiscent stories of when he was first fully initiated. I laughed in all the right places, and cringed at his stories of basically being delegated to lab 'gopher'. My mother had even let out a heartfelt chuckle at one of his stories.

At the end of dinner my mother set down her glass and peered at me with eyes identical to my own, just trained to show less emotion. "Perhaps we could excuse you for the night to spend time with you _friend _before tomorrow. You never know when you will get another chance again soon."

I felt water slide down my air-pipe and choked. My father thumped me on the back. I stared incredulously at my mother, and in that moment I knew that she knew about Alexander. Chances were she had known about him for a while and clearly she approved. My father seemed oblivious to the entire interaction, probably thinking I was sleeping over at Liz's.

"I- _thank you_," I nearly stuttered before pushing out of my chair. I jogged up the stairs to my room and quickly brushed my hair and teeth.

The look on Alexander's face when he had opened the door made me forget my worries for a moment and smile.

"What are you doing here?" he incredulously said, sticking his head out the door and looking around before pulling me inside.

"I had to see you."

I studied his perfect face for a moment, simply drinking him in. His olive skin, full lips, and those bright blue eyes that I loved so much. _Loved_. Loved? Yup, loved.

The shocked look faded into a pleased smile, and pulled my hips closer to him, so he could kiss me. "I'm glad you did, you little daredevil."

We moved to his bed and curled into each other.

"How was your test?" Alexander asked.

I looked up at him from beneath my lashes and smiled coyly, all the while feeling my stomach tie in knots- and not in the good way. "You know we aren't supposed to talk about it."

He playfully rolled his eyes and his fingers pinched my sensitive side. "Fine, keep your secrets."

I laughed, but it sounded hollow. This was one secret that I fully intended on keeping.

He rolled me over and kissed me passionately, tongue curling against my own. Smooth hands slipped to the buttons on my blouse and one by one he peeled my shirt away with reverence, like he was unwrapping a treasured gift. I stretched and shivered as he brushed against every nerve ending.

I surprised him as I sat up and pushed him back on the bed. He smiled crookedly, but when I grabbed his shirt and quickly pulled it off of him, he grabbed my hands, "Slow down darling."

I frowned. I didn't want to slow down. I just wanted lose myself in the feel of him. But Alexander did not know my inner musings or the reason why I just wanted a frantic feeling of pleasure to replace the frantic feelings of the unknown. I did not roll off of him, but my kisses did end up longer, lingering over the skin of his chest. It felt too much like a goodbye, and I could feel moisture gathering in my eyes.

When I could continue no further without dripping tears onto his bronze skin, Alexander rolled us over, and took over, shedding the rest of our clothing. We moved together in synch and I felt my pleasure rise higher and higher, until I couldn't hold on any longer and cried out.

He rolled off me and pulled me into his arms, so we could doze off together. "I love you Lyra," he whispered into my hair.

I don't know why, but I feigned sleep. I knew I loved him, but something held my tongue.

Alexander fell asleep soon after his whispered words, but my mind was wide-awake. The entire day I spent shocked that my test did not result in Erudite. I had spent my entire childhood learning and embodying their values. I even remember sneaking into my father's office and slipping his glasses on. They may have overwhelmed my small face, but the foreign weight had felt comfortable. On outward statement of where I belonged. I had spent the afternoon reminiscing on how hard it would be to leave this place that I never even considered what life in Dauntless would be like.

I could picture the Dauntless as clear as day in my mind. They were such a loud group, always jaunting or cheering at each other. Liz and I used to watch them jump off the trains and critique their landings to quiz each other in physics. We would giggle at it, but both agreed that despite the minimal amount of force needed to jump, the Dauntless were completely crazy.

Then there were the radical hair colours and facial piercings. They looked about as welcoming as a 'Keep Out' sign. How could I ever belong with those people? They did insane tricks just for the sake of risk, not knowledge… And despite the fact that they were the faction assigned to protect the city, I never felt all that safe around any of its members. They all looked like they were liable to haul off and smack you if you addressed them improperly. But I could not deny that they all seemed like one big happy family.

Erudite members all interacted like one big machine. Everybody had their place within the community, and served a purpose. We were not overly emotional or loving, but we were content. The inner workings of Dauntless' structure was a mystery to me, but all of its members were so passionate- they did everything with feeling- love, hate, frustration all displayed for the world to see.

I was doing myself no good thinking around everything in circles though. So I nudged Alexander on the hip. "I have to head back home now."

Alexander sleepily kissed my shoulder and said, "I'll be at the Choosing Ceremony tomorrow, so I can see you one last time before initiation."

I bit my lip and kissed him once again. Could I ever really consider leaving someone like this?

_No_, no I couldn't.

When I reached my room in the early hours of the morning, an outfit was laid out on my bed for me. The same navy pencil skirt that I wore to the hospital dinner, and a periwinkle blouse. I moved the clothing before collapsing on top of my bed.

"Wake up Lyra! _Wake up_! I knew I shouldn't have let you go to that boy's apartment last night," my mother snapped. I groggily opened my eyes, and found her impatient expression greeting me. "Just look at those bags under your eyes," she huffed before disappearing out of my room.

I looked over at the clock on my bedside table and groaned. It was eight o'clock. The Choosing Ceremony was scheduled at the Hub at ten am. I grudgingly dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. It was only with the warm water beating down on my head that I fully registered what I had to do today. But I was confident. Just because some test said I belonged somewhere else, didn't mean I _had _to go there. Like the leaders had told us, there was _always_ a choice.

I carefully pulled on my outfit, straightening the non-existent creases, while looking in the mirror. The bags underneath my eyes nearly matched my blue blouse, but other than that I looked like a typical Erudite.

When I went downstairs my other had placed cold oatmeal and a glass of orange juice in front of me.

"Eat this quickly, we need to leave," she simply said.

I don't know how I managed to swallow the thick concoction with the lumps of nervousness that were starting to creep into my throat. The car ride to the Hub with my parents was once again silent. I don't know how I never noticed this lack of communication between us all before, or maybe it had just never bothered me. But right now I could have used some words of comfort. But I knew better then to expect that from _my_ parents.

The Hub was packed with families from every faction. I looked around for Alexander, but could not see him in the sea of people. My search had ended when my father pulled me onto a crowded elevator. We entered a room with a dome shaped stage, and the five bowls representing the five factions on a table. I sat with the rest of the members of my faction nervously looking around.

At ten o'clock the talking stopped and a tall weather-beaten man in red clothing stood in the middle of the stage. He prattled on about faction history, and normally I would have clung to his familiar words, but instead I found myself looking at _them_. The Dauntless faction. They were wearing full black clothing today, a good portion of it made from leather. I saw more tattoos than I could count, even on the elderly. But despite their gruff exteriors, I saw them exchanging secretive smiles, hugs and laughter. They truly looked like one big happy family. I know looks can be deceiving, but they made extremely good actors if that was the case.

"Seth Adams," the Amity man called, and my head snapped back to the platform.

A short boy in a black and white suit approached the stage and picked up the ceremonial knife before slicing his palm. My eyes were intent on him, as he held his bleeding hand over the bowl with glass. Candor cheered- they kept one of their own.

"Lavender Ainsley," the man called with fondness in his voice.

A tall girl with strawberry blonde hair in a yellow dress moved forward and once again chose her home faction. Sweat started to drip down my neck.

"Rachel Avery."

Another Candor moved up the platform, but when she cut her hand she did not place her hand over the mirrors. She let her blood drip into the water, the first drops of pink spreading. My faction clapped politely. The first _transfer_.

The rest of the names seemed to go be both slowly and too quickly. I could feel my heart beating a staccato rhythm.

"Lyra James," the man called.

My father squeezed my hand before I stood up, legs feeling numb, and walked up the platform. I looked into the Amity man's kind brown eyes, and he smiled at me, before picking up the knife. My eyes strayed the bowl full of light pink coloured water. Filled with the blood of what would be the future of my faction.

I drew the knife harshly across my palm and thought of all the aspects of my personality. Of everything Erudite had offered and stifled within me. Of my happiness. Of my future.

I closed my eyes and let my blood drip onto the sizzling coals.

**A/N: Hi everyone, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Just a heads up, I don't really plan on sticking to the main storyline of Divergent. This also takes place the year before Tris. **

**Thank you to all the followers, I am so happy to know you are reading my story. And a really big thanks to everyone who reviews, reading them is like a little ray of sunshine in my day! And I promise that this fic doesn't have any sexual abuse in its future.**

**Please review and let me know what you think!**

**: ) Nyx**


	5. Changes

Disclaimer: I don't own anything form the Divergent world.

**Chapter 4:**

"_You are free to choose,_

_but you are not free_

_from the consequence of_

_your choice"_

_- a universal paradox_

My eyes widened in panic the moment my blood touched the Dauntless coals. Shock had all but deafened me to the thunderous applause and feet stomping coming from the horde of black. My_ new_ faction. Had I really just transferred?

After another moment, the Amity man reached over and took the ceremonial knife from me. His eyes told me '_you made your choice, now you have to live with it_'. So I robotically turned around, my feet carrying me to the left where the sea of leather was seated, instead of the right where my family remained.

When I finally sat down on the edge of my chair, I was enthusiastically pat on the back, the motions almost jerking me off my seat. My light blue clothing stood out against the rest of their stark darkness. I looked like a fish out of water, a _little blue fish_ surrounded by a group of sharks. And that is when I realized that I was only the second person to transfer to Dauntless- the first was a boy from Candor whose black suit nearly blended in.

I couldn't really describe the rest of the ceremony. I knew more people had joined Dauntless because of the continuous jovial hollering and seats filling up beside me, but I was numb to the chaos. I couldn't believe that I was sitting _here_…

I didn't dare look at the Erudite section, not wanting to face the shock and disappointment of my parents. How could I belong in Dauntless when I was not even brave enough to face the disapproval residing on the faces of the people who were supposed to love me the most? But it didn't matter now, once you made your choice, there was no going back.

When the ceremony concluded, the Dauntless rose to their feet, I scrambled to mine after a brief delay. And I couldn't help myself- my eyes slid over to the crowd of blue. I winced as I absorbed my mother's anger and my father's confusion. But when my gaze shifted past them to one face in particular, I felt a piece of me crumble. _Alexander_. He was staring at me with pleading confusion, emotions completely unmasked. I could almost feel his sorrow from across the room, and I could definitely feel the question of 'why' in his eyes.

I mouthed a quick _'I'm sorry_,' before a rough hand grabbed my shoulder and growled, "Come on grunt, first part of initiation starts now."

I turned to the door, and saw the last black clad figure jog out of it. It didn't take much energy to run forward and quickly catch up with them, yet my heart was thundering in my chest. I never realistically thought I would join Dauntless, so I never even considered what their initiation would be like. I knew that they valued strength and bravery above other attributes, so tests would probably involve the body more than the mind. That made me understandably nervous.

I followed the pack of Dauntless as they fled down the stairs, my fellow transfers running with wild, confused eyes. I wasn't too surprised that we were running, not only was it a physical activity, but I hadn't seen any of the Dauntless take the elevator this morning. Some of the other initiates hadn't seemed to come to that conclusion though, as they were trying to question each other between breaths. I could have answered them, but my mind was split- half of it thinking about what I had just left behind, the other half considering what was to come.

When we burst through the doors I had to squint my eyes at the bright sunlight. My feet slowed for a moment to adjust, but when their feet hit the dirt, the Dauntless picked up the pace of their running. I too had to pick up speed, and immediately regretted that my mother had picked out a form fitting pencil skirt for me to wear, as it restricted my movement. But still, I sped up, my legs pumping in familiar movement as I ran through the pack until I was swarmed by black. I knew where we were going- the train tracks. But I didn't know where they would take me. I didn't know where _any_ of this would take me.

But I let my mind zone out for the moment and just enjoyed the freedom of the wind whipping through my hair, and the air whooshing through my lungs. I spotted some blissful grins on foreign faces and knew I wasn't the only one, even if my face did not register the emotion quite as openly as theirs did. It didn't take long to make it to the tracks- they ran all throughout the city. But the problem was these particular tracks were resting about thirty meters above ground. I stopped and watched as fully- fledged members of Dauntless, as well as the Dauntless born started climbing up the supports, using rusty metal pegs.

As I was waiting my turn for a peg, I once again cursed my mother for putting me in a skirt- I didn't particularly care to flash anyone in my new faction my panties. I looked down at the skirt and noticed a fraying thread. If I pulled the threat, I could create a slit in it, which would make running and climbing a lot easier. Not to mention the other physical activities we would undoubtedly be doing. So I grabbed the frayed part of my skirt and ripped. I could hear a couple shocked gasps from behind me, and one wolf whistle, but I paid no mind.

A almost cathartic like feeling filled me, until someone knocked me forward saying, "Hurry up, its your turn!'

I quickly moved forward and grasped a peg, the harsh metal biting into the skin of my palms. I almost wished that I were a little bit taller so I could use my leg muscles to hoist me up to the next rungs, instead of my practically non-existent arm ones. But not reaching the top was not an option. So I hauled my way up, sweat dripping into my eyes.

When I reached the top, I noticed that my slit had ripped more with the climbing and showed an almost scandalous amount of my pale leg. Well scandalous by Erudite standards, but gazing around at the other initiates, I noticed a Dauntless born girl in a barely-there crop top, so I doubted anyone paid me any mind.

I tried to shake the jumble of my thoughts when I heard the grating metal against metal that signaled an incoming train. A part of me wanted to look over the edge and see if there were more people that still had to climb up to the platform, but I would never be confused for an Abnegation, so I didn't worry about the people at the bottom. The other part of me was more focused on how to get on the train when it clearly wasn't stopping. As the train barreled forward, I saw some of the full Dauntless members and running forward, jumping on and opening doors. I didn't need to watch the Dauntless born to know what to do this time.

I started to run my mind focused on the door that would lead me into the train car. As I finally got into the correct position to jump, I let go of any fleeting thoughts of failure. This was my body, and I would not let it fail me. And as I forcefully flung myself into the train- car, I felt my heart soar with exhilaration. A dark hand reached out and steadied me. The hand was connected to a tall girl whose origin hinted at Native American, with her bronzed skin, long naturally pin-straight hair, and big dark eyes. She was dressed in a black pants suit and white blouse- a Candor transfer.

I quirked my lips into a smile, "Thanks."

The girl tilted her head at me for a moment before returning my grin, "No problem. I'm Justice Oake."

"Lyra James."

Justice smirked, showcasing bright pearly whites, with one canine endearingly crooked. "Love the restyling you did," she said, nodding to my skirt.

I shrugged, "It was restricting my movements, and I knew that we will probably have more physical activities. It ripped a bit more than I anticipated."

Justice snorted, but when another Candor transfer pointed out the open doors at the view of the city with an awed '_wow_' escaping his mouth, we both abandoned our short conversation to take in the sight.

It was a view beyond many of the decrepit city buildings. It was tall grass, blue sky and untouched. It was natural and I loved it. But the tall fence that surrounded it was a reminder that it wasn't quite safe. And maybe that was why I belonged in Dauntless, because I loved the danger of it just as much as I loved the beauty.

As much as the train ride fascinated me, I couldn't wait for it to be over. The adrenalin had faded from my bloodstream, and stiffness had settled in my bones from the lack of sufficient seating. My feet were killing me too, as I had worked the flats to their maximum usage. But I kept my complaints to myself. None of the other initiates in were talking either. It seemed as if we were all too lost in thought.

"Get ready to jump!" A booming voice hollered.

I pulled myself to my feet, my leg muscles feeling wobbly. But when I poked my head out of the door and saw people jumping off the moving train and onto a gravel roof that was about ten feet away from the tracks, I shook the soreness out of my mind. My heart started pumping with anticipation. I looked over to Justice, and when she noticed my gaze, she smirked before launching herself out of the train-car. With her mile-long legs she made it look easy.

I backed up a little, and leapt out, throwing my entire weight forward like the long-jumpers I had studied about. It was a good thing I jumped when I did because I was running out of roof. My landing was rough though, with gravel pinching into the skin of my bare legs. I was only glad that I didn't put out my wrists to stop my fall, or else they would undoubtedly be broken.

I hastily got to me feet though and brushed off my skirt, ignoring the sluggish trickle of blood descending down one knee. I did not want to appear weak to these people.

"How many?" A man standing near me asked.

"Forty-five chose Dauntless, forty-one got on the train, and thirty- four got off of it," a woman with shocking purple hair answered.

Shock hit my system as I heard those words. Already eleven people were factionless. A fate I _never _wanted to share.

"Listen up initiates," A tall black man, clad in dark leather and standing on the ledge of the building said. "My name is Max," he continued when he had everyone's attention, "and I am one of the five leaders of Dauntless. While you are here you will be pushed to your physical and mental limits. We prepare you in the harshest ways possible and we only accept the best. Our job in the city is dangerous and important, if you don't think you can handle that, you can find your way to the faction less sector now." Nobody moved an inch and Max smirked, "That's what I thought. Behind me," he gestured to the air, "lays the entrance to the Dauntless compound. You want in, you _jump_."

A quiet muttering broke out among the initiates. There must be some other way in and out of the Dauntless Headquarters, or else the Dauntless born wouldn't appear so shocked.

"But that's suicide," a fellow Erudite transfer protested, and I snorted. He must have had to transfer because with that thick head he would have never lasted in Erudite. Dauntless wouldn't lead all of their initiates up to a tall building to commit mass suicide.

Max stared the transfer boy down, until his protests died. Everyone still shuffled restlessly on their feet though. "Any other protests?" Max called, "No, then who will be the first to jump?"

I looked nervously around, expecting one of the Dauntless born to immediately step forward, displaying their bravery, putting an action to their pride. But no one did. It was silent for a long drawn out moment, and Max's lips curled into a sneer.

"I will," Justice said confidently walking forward.

When she stepped on the ledge another Candor transfer yelled, "Can't wait to hear your body hit the pavement J!"

I moved closer to the ledge and looked down. It was too far and too dark to see if there even was pavement at the bottom.

Justice rolled her eyes before giving the boy the one- fingered salute and leaping off the edge. My head jerked over the edge again to follow her descent, but she was already swallowed by the darkness. The entire group of us had sucked in a breath and remained completely silent for a moment. When no sounds of bones crunching or people screaming reached our ears everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

Before I could even blink the Dauntless born were lining up at the ledge. One by one they all started dropping off the rooftop. Something told me that their pride had already been damaged that a transfer was the first one to display bravery in the face of the unknown. While they were all jumping I took the time to consider just what was waiting at the bottom. It couldn't have been water because at this height it would still feel like hitting concrete. And since we were not given any type of harness that ruled out any time of parachute option. So that only left some kind inflatable mat.

When the Dauntless born had all jumped, the Candor boy who had jeered at Justice was the first one to step up and jump. I didn't want to appear cowardly or apprehensive to my fellow initiates or my future leader, so I was a step behind him. But standing on the ledge with the wind whipping around my body, I felt a lot like Alice about to tumble down the rabbit hole.

I remembered that fleeting feeling of freedom as I jumped in my aptitude test. So with a deep inhale, I stepped off that ledge. The feeling of falling was vastly different in real life than in a simulation. The wind howled in my ears, and the air felt sharp and cold against my skin. My hands were desperately trying to hold my skirt from flying above my hips, but I was distracted by the feel of my stomach rising up into my throat. The impact of the net came suddenly; jeering my limbs in every direction and this time my skirt did fly up. My bouncing around on it like a fish out of water stopped though when a short woman with rather heavy eyeliner steadied the net and held out her hand.

"Name?" she questioned sounding completely bored.

"Lyra Ja-"

"Seventeenth jumper, LYRA!" the woman shouted as I hopped down from the net. She turned back around and took a good look at me, quirking her brow at my now wrinkled, ripped, and torn outfit. "Nice," she smirked.

I hurriedly walked over to where Justice was standing.

"Pretty intense morning," she said.

I grinned, "Did you expect anything less?"

Justice laughed, and we both turn as another initiate hits the net screaming.

"An Amity transfer," Justice says, her brows rising to her hairline in disbelief.

I shared in her shock. Amity and Dauntless were the factions that had perhaps the most conflicting set of values. Amity the free loving peacekeepers, and Dauntless with their brash and confrontational nature often conflicted in principals. Erudite often liked to study the 'nature versus nurture debate'. But even with the faction system in place we had no definitive proof. Sure most people stayed in their home faction proving nurture, but those who transferred suggested that nature had more of an impact on their personality. But for an Amity who was raised to respect peace to transfer the faction that was known for their violence was extremely uncommon.

The girl bounced down from the net and we stood off to the side waiting to hear her name.

"Eighteenth jumper, FERN!" the same woman announced.

I watched as Fern straightened her long red dress and pulled her long dirty blonde braid out of her collar. Like Justice, Fern was tall, but her colouring was drastically different. She had contained the tanned skin that most Amity had from spending long hours outdoors on their farms, and striking gold eyes. I thought that she would approach Justice and I, seeing as we were the only girl transfers that had made it down, but instead she walked over to the other Candor boy.

Justice and traded looks. The girl hadn't exactly snubbed us, but she and the Candor boy had made no move to introduce themselves either.

"I'm guessing you know that boy who transferred from Candor?" I questioned.

Justice curled her lips in a grimace, "That's Ben. He was my next-door neighbor and a total ass."

I shouldn't have been surprised at her bluntness considering the faction she grew up in, but it still caught me off guard, and I chocked out a laugh.

As we stood watching more and more people fall into the net I took my time to look around. This place was so different than the openness of the Erudite compound that I wondered if I would ever feel at home here. The walls were a combination of rock and concrete and closed in around us, casting everything in shadow. I almost thought the dark and mysterious vibe they had going was a little cheesy, but I would never admit that out loud. There were several open pathways that careened outside of this vast room with the hole in the roof. And I had the distinct feeling that several more people were watching us from them, as I felt eyes on my form constantly.

The final jumper was another girl from Erudite who was sobbing slightly when she hit the net.

"You know her?" Justice questioned.

I studied the girl who practically clawed her way out of the net, "She looks familiar, but I don't remember her name."

Justice nodded staring at her, "Don't know how long she will last here."

I took in the girls red tear stained cheeks and unhappily nodded my agreement. Dauntless was not for the weak of heart or stomach, and I seriously doubted that jumping off a building would be the riskiest thing we would have to do.

"Initiates gather around," a stern male voice called.

Justice and I moved over the group.

"Dauntless born you will go with Lynn, transfers you stay with me," the man said.

My eyes watched for a minute as three quarters of the group melted into the darkness almost silently. It must be a skill taught from birth. I quickly drew my eyes back to the man. He was tall with short brown hair and deep- set eyes with indiscernible colour. He gave off the air of stern authority. The perfect model of Dauntless.

"Transfers, my name is Four. Normally I work in the control room, but for now I will be training you. Dauntless initiation covers three main stages- physical, emotional, and mental. You have to be successful at all three to become a full member."

I bit my lip in surprise. I knew logically that this faction was not made up entirely of dumb brutes, but I underestimated the value they placed on the mind.

"I will show you to your dormitory before you burn your old faction clothing and we head to dinner," Four said before abruptly turning on his feet and turning into one of the passageways.

We all quickly scrambled behind him. My tread- less flats did not manage very well against the uneven stone, and I stumbled into a male Candor transfer whose name I didn't know twice.

As we were walking Four was going over basic expectations, "Training begins at eight am every day. Lateness will never be excused or tolerated. Training finishes at six pm and afterwards you are free to do what you like. Dauntless economy works on a point system. If you are successful then your jobs after initiation will determine how many points you earn, but for now you will all get a standard number of points."

He veered sharply left and then opened a rickety door. When we followed him into the room I tried not to let the disgust show on my face. But I wasn't sure I was entirely successful. Growing up in a family with wealthy parents in Erudite, I was used to a certain higher standard of living. And these rusty cots with their lumpy mattresses and filthy floors was unsatisfactory.

"Not to your liking princess?" Ben the Candor transfer mockingly cooed at me.

I did not give him the satisfaction of responding to his juvenile barb, instead claiming a cot beside Justice. Despite the fact that I had only really had one real conversation with her, she seemed like an okay person.

"Change into your new clothes and meet me outside this door in three minutes," Four said before turning around and closing the door with a snap.

Everyone just awkwardly stood there for a moment exchanging looks before an Erudite transfer that I recognized as Henry smirked and said, "Alright ladies _take it off._"

The tension diffused for a moment and everyone laughed. I walked over to the small pile of clothing on my cot and rooted through it quickly. Tight black pants, tight black long sleeved shirt. I didn't feel the same self-consciousness I once felt about my body a year ago, but still, I didn't exactly like changing in front of strangers. Erudites may not be prudes and we do take pride in our bodies, but we were still extremely private with them. But I suppose I am not an Erudite anymore. So I quickly shed my ripped periwinkle blouse, and torn navy skirt and pulled my new black clothes on.

I sat on the bed and reluctantly pulled my flats back on, keeping my eyes on my shoes until the ruffling sounds of clothes being changed stopped.

As I stood to my feet and made my way out the door, a boy standing beside me said, "They suit you better."

I looked over at him. He was shorter than most males of sixteen, but bulky with muscles and thick auburn hair. Yet his kind smile set me at ease. "What does?"

He grinned, "The new clothing…not that the old ones didn't, but I like these better."

I tilted my head trying to determine whether or not he was flirting with me. His smile became strained with nerves, as he probably realized how his statement came off. "You must be from Candor," I finally said.

He nodded, "Guess I'm going to have to get used to not saying exactly what's on my mind. I'm Ian by the way."

"Lyra," I replied shaking his meaty hand.

Justice made her way to our sides, nodding at Ian with a smile that hinted at familiarity between the two. It was almost comical how the dark beauty towered over him.

Four appeared from seemingly out of nowhere and barked, "Lets go."

We once again followed him through the dark and rocky passage through Dauntless Headquarters. Four said he was taking us to the Dining Hall, but we had to make a quick stop first. We walked along a narrow passage until we made it to a cavern with a metal railing. The sound of rushing water filled my ears.

"Unless you are entertaining suicidal tendencies, you have no reason to find yourselves here. This is called the Chasm, and jumping from here results in certain death. It reminds us that while we are brave and take risks, we are not invincible." Four explained, as we all stared at the foaming water and jagged rocks below. To see water in such natural form mesmerized me, as I never quite forgot that feeling of wanting to swim in nature like the nymphs from poems. I reluctantly dragged my eyes and feet away as we moved again.

"We are heading down to the Pit now. This is the centre of life for Dauntless. And this is where you will burn the last ruminants of your old faction in the Dauntless flames," Four said.

"Dauntless flames?" the Erudite girl who was the last jumper questioned.

Four looked at her and she blushed vividly, her head looking down as if his eyes were going to shoot laser beams.

"In the center of the Pit we have a fire that never goes out. It is tended to everyday. And it is also where transfers burn their old clothing."

"What if we want to keep it?" Fern, the Amity questioned.

Four narrowed his eyes at her, "Sentimentality is not tolerated. You left your old faction for a reason. You're Dauntless now, that is _if _you make it."

Fern looked slightly taken aback, but narrowed her eyes at the challenge in his voice.

As we reached the Pit I studied my surroundings with interest. The Erudite Headquarters was a library because it represented their value in knowledge. It was peaceful with only the sounds of turning pages and scribbling pens. The Pit was its exact contrast, vibrant with sound and life. People where moving with stealthy grace to and from the many passageways carved into the walls. And at the center of it all was a large bonfire burning brightly. I idly wondered how they prevented it from smoking too badly.

"Form a line," Four ordered.

We did as we were told, and one by one moved forward tossing our clothes into the orange flames. I played with the pearl coloured button on my blouse and squeezed it quickly before tossing it and my troublesome skirt into the flames. After everyone had shed the last remnant from their old identity, we moved into the Dining Hall.

It was another cavernous space that was lighted by a glass ceiling. And it was filled with people of all ages. Children ducked between the tables squealing, while middle- aged parents with full- sleeved tattoos argued and laughed together. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. A chaotic room filled with people who had absolutely no social decorum. I felt my lips twitch into a smile.

Four led us to one long empty table, and plopped down. We all scrambled into spots and I had unfortunately ended up next to our gruff trainer. I sat stiffly, and when I noticed everyone else just digging into the food from the platters, I did so too, with slightly better manners. Years of etiquette would take a while to wear off.

Four smirked obviously noting my not so well hidden discomfort, "Don't worry, you don't have to be wary of me until tomorrow."

My response was a simple grimace, and I hid my reddened cheeks by taking a big gulp of my drink.

"So what is everyone's names, and where are they from," Justice bluntly asked. But I doubted anyone else heard her over the noise.

"I'm Ian and I'm from Candor," Ian said in a mock girly voice.

Justice offered him a flat look, "I already know who you are doofus, who is everyone else?"

I looked down the table and spotted three other Erudite transfers. The last jumper girl and two boys. I only knew one of their names. "The boy with the blonde hair at the end is Henry. I don't remember the other two name's though, and they were from Erudite."

"Their names are Patrick and Claire," Ian supplied through a mouth full of food.

"How do _you _know?" Justice practically demanded.

Ian shrugged, "They were in the same train car with me this morning."

"The Amity girl's name is Fern," Justice said, "and sitting next to her is Marina and Ben. They were in Candor too."

I looked at the trio. Even without her bright red dress Fern stood out. Her blonde hair was practically glowing in the dimness of the room. Marina who was sitting next to her was inordinately plain. She had non-descript features, nothing to make her stand out in a crowd. But in Dauntless that could be considered an attribute with stealth. My eyes did a quick survey of the room, taking in the vibrant hair colours and tattoos- plain didn't seem to have a place here though. And Ben on the other side of Fern was tall and lean. He had long dark hair, a hooked nose and small dark eyes.

"Not what you are accustomed to?" Four asked from beside me.

I was surprised that he was talking to me, as he didn't seem like the type to engage in meaningless chitchat. "Not at all."

And that is where our conversation ended. Four sipped his drink and Justice shot me an amused look. I shrugged not really knowing what to make of our mysterious trainer.

"Well I for one am glad that I got out of Candor. Being honest and having to say what is on your mind all the time is exhausting," Justice declared as we were finishing our meals.

"_You_ not speaking your mind? Travesty," Ian teased.

I laughed as Justice playfully scowled. "Just wait until you here what I _really _think of you!"

Ian mock clutched his heart and cried out in pain. The cry came out at a much louder volume than it would have a moment before, because the hall had quieted down significantly. When I noticed all the others heads turned, I too looked around at what had caught their attention.

A blonde muscular man moved through the Dining Hall with deadly purpose. The people he passed fell silent and warily watched his approach. Our table too settled to a nervous stillness. I watched in almost fascinated awe, as the animalistic urge of fight or flight wrestled in everyone's subconscious as he drew nearer. Even I could feel my body's primal reaction to this man-he was a dangerous, he was a _predator_.

I felt Four straightened up from beside me, his instincts clearly settling on 'fight'. And to my surprise the dangerous man stopped right in front of our table, his grey blue eyes staring directly at Four. I watched as he crossed his arms, his biceps looked thicker than my waist.

"Max wants to meet with you after you are finished with the grunts," the man spat out, his voice guttural.

Four slowly nodded, his eyes dismissing the man. I could tell that he didn't want to be anywhere near the man, and I was in full agreement. This guy screamed danger.

But he too seemed to feel Four's displeasure at his presence and smirked. "So, are you going to introduce me to everyone?"

Four frowned, "You will meet them tomorrow Eric."

"At least tell me who the first jumper was."

I felt 'Eric's' eyes glance at me, before seemingly dismissing me as a possibility and sliding over to Ian who was sitting next to me.

Justice straightened her spine and turned around to face Eric as Four said, "Justice Oake was our first jumper."

Eric's double pierced eyebrow shot up, "I could hardly believe it when Lynn told me it was a transfer, but a _girl_ too." He shook his head and I nearly scoffed aloud. But those menacing neck tattoos and thick arms reminded me that it would be stupid to piss this man off, even if he was misogynistic. And I did not want those cold eyes focused on me.

Eric studied Justice for a moment, his pierced mouth curled down, and I could see the hand on her drinking glass shake slightly, but was proud of my new friend for maintaining a stoic face. Eric didn't say anything else and abruptly strode away. Justice, and everyone else at our table let out a collective sigh of relief.

"_Who was that_?" I heard Marina ask.

"That was Eric," Four informed all of us, "he is one of the Dauntless leaders."

Many of the people looked shocked at this, but I didn't share that sentiment. Eric may be young, but from what I could see he was the embodiment of dangerous soldier.

When we all finished a dessert of chocolate cake, Four led us back to the dormitories, and I got the first look at the filthy bathrooms. I let out an internal sigh as I pulled my tight black pants off and traded them for black sleep shorts.

"You're Lyra right?" a voice from beside me questioned.

I turned my head and noticed that the other Erudite girl- Claire had claimed the bed on the other side of me. I nodded and offered her a small smile.

"I'm Claire, I think I was in a night class with you- Sociology 104 with Professor Ferraris?"

My smile had abruptly disappeared from my face, "Yes, I was in that class."

Claire smiled a little uneasily now, "Well, we best get some sleep. Never know what they have planned for us tomorrow."

I nodded in agreement, but as soon as my head hit my pillow, my mind took over. _Alexander_. It was understandable that I hadn't given him too much thought today, seeing how busy I was. And truthfully I didn't want to think of him or the guilt would suffocate me. But now in the darkness, surrounded by people but feeling alone, I could lose myself to the feelings churning inside me.

_Shock_- I never planned on switching factions, but I did. _Pain_- I never meant to hurt him or myself, but I was. _Loss_- I didn't know how I was going to move forward without him. He was such a staple in my life. He introduced me to so many things that I had become passionate about. He helped influence the part of me that was truly Dauntless. And I _loved _him. What if I never saw him again?

And it was with that final thought that the tears came silently rushing out. And the only thing I knew for sure was I certainly wasn't the only one in the room sobbing in the dark.

**A/N: Hi everyone, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! We got our first look at Eric, and I'm excited to hear what you thought of it!**

** A lot of you mentioned that you hope I keep everyone in character for the story and I definitely plan to! Eric is not going to be a gentle poetry reading leading man- lets face it he is a total douche. **

**Please Please Review and let me know what you think!**

**: ) Nyx**


	6. Consequences

**Chapter 5:**

"_A smooth sea_

_never made a_

_skillful sailor"_

_- English Proverb_

When my eyes opened the next morning, they fully dilated due to the complete darkness I was submerged in. I was accustomed to having hazy dusk or feeble grey light shine through my bedroom window, so the pitch black startled me for a moment. And then it hit me- I was no longer at home. This lumpy mattress with its spring digging into my shoulder was not my plush bed, and the animal like snoring certainly did not belong to my parents. I was in a Dauntless dormitory.

I rolled onto my side and wondered what time it was. There was no outside light filtering in that would give me any indication. I looked towards the door though, and saw the time displayed by neon red letters. Six thirteen am. I sighed, after months of sneaking around with Alexander, my body was used to waking up early. But considering the training to come, I could probably use the sleep.

My eyes shot over to the clock again and I considered the positives to getting up early. I could use the disgusting bathroom and shower in relative privacy. And I could eat and digest my breakfast before training begun. With those somewhat appealing ideas in mind, coupled with the fact that falling back asleep would be nearly impossible, I quietly slipped out of bed and tiptoed into the bathroom.

I cringed at the feeling of the filthy floor beneath my bare feet, but conceded that I had no other option. So I quickly stripped out of my clothes and stepped into the shower. Needless to say this was one of the shortest showers of my life. The water was neither warm nor cold, but somewhere in between. I took the chunk of grey soap and quickly scrubbed my body with it before running the shampoo through my hair. There was no conditioner, face wash, or razors. But I was just grateful that I was clean, and that I would possibly be able to purchase some toiletries after training was done for the day.

When I returned to the bunks already wearing my tight black pants and long sleeved shirt, I noticed that another person was also awake.

"Hey," the boy whispered, and we both cringed at the slight echo. But no one seemed to wake up. "It's Lyra right?"

I nodded, "And you're Henry," I said already knowing the answer. Henry was another transfer from Erudite. I didn't live near him, nor share very many classes with him. And if I recall he was more involved in mathematical courses than scientific ones. But Liz had had a huge crush on the blonde haired, brown- eyed boy before she had begun dating Victor, so I probably knew more about him than he did about me.

I could barely make out his smile in the dark, "Yeah. I guess you're an early riser too."

I resisted the urge to make a sarcastic barb at his _remarkable _observation, but stopped myself. I didn't want to isolate, or make a target of myself to anyone because of my acid tongue. So I hummed my agreement instead.

"Want to grab breakfast together?" Henry asked.

I spared one more glance at the digital clock above the doorway. Six twenty-five. We weren't expected at the training room until eight. But I suspected it would take me sometime to force some food down with my stomach tied in nervous knots. So I agreed with a nod.

It appeared as though both Henry and I would have to work at our stealth skills in the future, and how to better navigate. Because we clomped through the rocky passageways without much success. Twice we took a wrong turn and ended up near the chasm Four had warned us against. We had wasted at least forty minutes before we finally made it to the Dining Hall. My sore feet were not happy with my detours, but my stomach had finally awoken and demanded breakfast.

And I discovered that Henry was not such bad company after all. He spoke a lot about his younger brother and how he would miss him, but he also traded speculations with me about what was to come. And Henry had been in Erudite, so he could understand to some extent the homesickness that prickled at my mind.

"I wonder what Dauntless serves for breakfast?" Henry mused as we walked up to the cafeteria line.

I shrugged. Erudites usually ate fruit or yogurt. Light foods that would provide energy. But if Dauntless were constantly working out they probably needed food that was more heavily saturated with carbohydrates and protein.

We took a moment to survey the platter of muffins, omelets and thick milkshakes. Bacon wafted under my nose, making my mouth water. I grabbed a couple of muffins, just incase Justice and Ian didn't wake up in time, along with some bacon. Henry and I easily found an empty, which was not surprising considering the early hour. But then again I didn't know what time Dauntless usually started their days at.

"What do you think we will be doing today?" I asked him, before pulling the wrap off my bran muffin.

Henry shrugged, "Four said initiation tests us physically, emotionally, and mentally. But he didn't say what order they test us in. Personally I think physically first. It sounds the hardest, but I think it will be the easiest step."

It might be easy for Henry seeing as he was tall with an athletic build, but my shoulders sagged slightly at the thought. I knew I was not physically prepared for whatever was to come. Sure I was in okay shape. I ate relatively healthy and had been running for the last couple of months. But I was not muscular by any means. And I wanted a few more days to accumulate my body to this new setting and new routines before being thrown to the wolves. However, I knew that was _far _too much to ask for. If they wanted us to jump off a roof on our first day, I couldn't imagine what was to come next.

"You're probably right," I said grumpily.

Henry had clearly picked up on my melancholy, "Don't worry, I'm sure you will do fine."

I sincerely hoped he was right.

After finishing our breakfast we both hurriedly walked back to the dormitories, thankfully not getting lost. When we arrived back it was seven thirty-five and most of the other transfers were groggily milling about. Justice was still sprawled out on her cot, snoring lightly.

I hesitated, not feeling as though we were close enough friends to get into her personal space by waking her. But then again, I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate being late. Four did clearly state that tardiness was not tolerated. I glanced over at Ian, the dilemma clear on my face and he smirked at me, taking a huge bite out of the muffin I had given him.

"Good luck waking the beast," he sing-songed.

I scowled at him, "Some help you are!"

He chuckled, "I like my limbs where they are."

I snorted, "_Drama queen_," before shaking Justice's shoulder lightly.

She groaned into her threadbare pillow and swatted her hand at me. Ian and I may have exchanged humorous looks.

"Justice wake up. Four is going to be here soon to take us to the training room. And I don't want to know what he does to people who are _late_!"

She groaned and finally blinked open dark tired eyes, "What time is it?"

"Almost quarter to eight," Ian replied from the edge of his cot.

Justice sat up quickly, the colour draining from her face. "_Shit_! I'm not going to have time to shower."

I nodded my head at both her statements. Not that the showers were anything to write home about, but they were still better than nothing. "I brought you food," I said offering her the muffin.

She greedily grasped the muffin and took a huge bite out of it. Groaning she said through her mouthful, "You're the _best_!"

"Truer words have never been spoken," Ian agreed, as he dusted the crumbs of his own muffin off his black cargo pants.

With no shame Justice scrambled out of bed, muffin hanging from her mouth, and shucked her sleep shorts off. Not that she had anything to be remotely ashamed of I noted before averting my eyes. Justice was gorgeous in a non- stereotypical way. Long legs, dark skin, straight hair, proud nose. When I typically thought of beauty I considered the Caroline Lumleys of the world, but Justice now replaced that image. And I was much more okay with that.

"I know Four said we can't _ever_ be late, but he didn't actually show us where the training room was," Ian nervously stated.

This thought had already crossed my mind, but I wasn't worried. I didn't think any of us were expected to be able to navigate these maze like passages in less than a day. In fact, Dauntless leaders would probably be upset if someone could manage it- bad security and all. So I fully anticipated that if not Four, than someone else would be coming to get us.

"I'm sure someone will show us the way," I reassured. But I fully expected this to be the last day someone helped us around here during initiation.

And just as the words had left my mouth, the dormitory door abruptly swung open, clanging against the jagged wall with force. Everyone's eyes snapped to the figure standing in it and the last remnants of sleep faded from eyes. We all straightened to attention like the good little soldiers we were to become.

Four took his time surveying everyone for a moment. His eyes narrowed briefly on where Claire stood still in her pajama bottoms. "Everyone follow me and pay attention. This will be the only time I show you where the training room is."

As we all lined up single file behind Four, Claire went to snatch her pants when Four's harsh voice snapped at her "You were to be ready at eight am. Apart from today, you will be expected to be in the training room at eight. Therefore you can wear what you have on."

Claire's face flushed to match her red hair, but she remained silent, joining the end of the line clad in black pajama bottoms. Thankfully I was not near Four and his apparent grumpy morning personality (I hoped he wasn't always like this), finding myself near the back of the line. I could hear Fern snickering at Claire's misfortune.

The group of us choked down any complaints we may have had about the early hour or having to force our foggy minds to remember the way to the training room. When we finally made it, I was slightly underwhelmed. This particular Dauntless training room was a vast open space. It had mats pushed up against a wall and a boxer's ring in the center. On the opposite wall target dummies were lined up. And that was it. No fancy machinery, no treadmills, no gun cabinets... How did they all get so buff?

But then again considering to actually enter or leave the compound you had to jump on and off trains, it was easy to see how all the Dauntless stayed in shaped. Thinking about last night though, I reconsidered. They had to have at least a weight room around here somewhere because the leader we met couldn't have gained biceps the size of tires without pumping some serious iron.

Four stopped abruptly before an empty wall and turned around. We all stared nervously at him. I could already feel my heart starting to pick up rhythm in my chest.

"Spread out," he ordered. We did as we were told and fanned out behind him. "During initiation you are ranked based on how well you perform at each task," Four briskly informed, "Today that task will be firing a gun."

My eyebrows shot to my hairline. It was day two and they already trusted us with hardcore weapons? Were they crazy?

"Dauntless are placed in charge of the city's security, therefore each of you need to familiarize yourselves with weapons. Even if you don't end up with a security position after initiation, this knowledge will benefit you in an emergency situation. So pay attention," he barked at Patrick who was sleepily scratching his neck.

In a few more moments Four was pushing a gun into my unprepared hands. The metal of the weapon was cold, and heavy. I had read all about weapons in my history class, so I knew that this particular gun was in the rifle family. It had a long arm and barrel.

After quickly pinning a paper target to the wall Four simply said, "Watch me."

And if there was anything that I was particularly good at, it was learning. So before Four even fired his weapon my eyes scoured his body. I took note of the way Four planted his feet not quite a shoulder's width apart, both facing directly forward. When he raised the gun he placed the barrel parallel with his straight left arm. He held the gun with a firm, but not overly tight grip, and lowered his eye to the scope, instead of raising it to his face. Quicker than my eyes could catalogue he let out three consecutive shots.

My eyes remained on his form though, instead of the target. I already knew he had hit bulls' eye on all three. He wouldn't be in the position of trainer if he were anything but perfect. Instead I watched how the throwback from the force of the projected bullet should have pushed the handle into Four's shoulder, but he moved his body with the gun. Finally when he lowered the weapon my eyes darted over to the target. I was right; three bullets left one big smoking hole in the middle of the paper target.

"Now its your turn," he simply said, walking back towards the front of the line.

I bit my lip- he hadn't given us much instruction. But maybe that was the point. We were supposed to learn for ourselves, adapt to our environments. This could all be part of testing whether or not we were Dauntless material. I may not have been sure before if I was right for Dauntless, but this is what I had chosen and I was _not_ going to be factionless.

Justice traded a nervous look with me before she positioned her rifle. She wasn't holding it right, but I held my tongue. She would have to deal with her own shortcomings, just like I would with mine.

I looked down at my feet and made sure that they were close to a shoulder width apart. Slowly I raised the gun, trying to fit my hands around it so it wouldn't feel so awkward. It didn't really work, my hands were simply too small for a weapon this size. But I was _determined_. I aligned the gun with my shoulder and lowered my eye to the scope. By the time I lined the barrel up with the bulls- eye most people had already fired their first rounds, and my arm muscles were already protesting. I moved my face back slightly and squeezed the trigger, trying to let my body move with the gun as it pushed back. But the force was more powerful than I anticipated and I stumbled back a step.

When I lowered the gun my arm felt immediate relief. I looked at my target and to my immense pleasure a burned hole was sitting in one of the three inner circles. I didn't let the pride surface on my face though. When I raised my gun again, I felt Four's presence behind me, observing my movements. I lined everything up again and took another shot. This time I was able to prevent my foot from stepping back at the force.

"You have a good aim," Four said from behind me. I did not turn around to acknowledge him until I heard the 'but'. "But you take too long. In real life you don't have time to line up and take you shot."

When I turned around I knew my chin was tilted up stubbornly, but I was practically powerless to stop it. "Isn't the point of training to familiarize us with the techniques, so they will be perfected by the time that we would potentially have to use them?"

Four's eyes narrowed. I heard the firing around me cease until Four shouted, "I _didn't _say stop!" He walked closer to me, and regret lodged its way into my throat. "You have a smart mouth," Four said in a low voice, "And a calculating brain, but you need to learn how to turn your thoughts off and rely on instinct."

I quickly nodded before turning around and lifting my gun again, ignoring the protests in my upper arms. Four hadn't exactly got me in trouble, but he had told me that I had to shut off the tool that I had always relied on the most- my brain. And I just didn't know if that was possible. But as I fired off more rounds I found my body fitting into a familiar pattern. I didn't need to look at my feet or angle my arms, they did that automatically.

After an immeasurable amount of time though, I felt like my shots were getting sloppier instead of improving. I could no longer ignore the ache in my arm muscles, and the now throbbing bruise on my shoulder. As much as I wanted to work through the pain, my body was putting up a good fight. I was so focused on trying to simultaneously squeeze the trigger with my numb index finger, ignore the jelly-like feeling of my biceps, and not wince at the gun handle kicking back into a what was surely a dark purple mark on my shoulder that I did not notice the door swing open or the menacing figure move through it.

I did notice however when Four called us to a stop, my shoulder sagging with relief, and my finger fighting to uncurl itself. I looked to my left to see Ian cracking his neck and beyond him Ben slumping his shoulders.

"Initiates!" Four calls, and we all turn around to face him. My spine automatically straightened when I saw the muscular giant from last night standing next to him, completely at ease in a room full of amateurs holding guns.

"This is Eric," Four formally introduced, "he is one of the five Dauntless leaders, and he will be overseeing some of your training to help determine your rankings.

I watched as Eric's calculating blue eyes swept over every single one of us. When his eyes scanned me I felt goosebumps spread across my flesh. There was something incredibly unnerving at having Eric look at you. His physical presence was about as subtle as a slap in the face. He was tall with thick shoulders and arms that rippled with power. I didn't have to see the rest of his body to know it was corded with steel muscles. Thick tribal tattoos wrapped around his forearms and caressed his neck, adding to his menacing vibe. His sheer masculinity was overwhelming and the vicious smile sitting on those pierced lips only put me more on edge.

"Initiation is different this year," Eric said, his voice a low husky rumble. "Usually people only end up factionless when they quit or fail the tests. However beginning this year, we will only be accepting the top twenty initiates into Dauntless."

Dead silence hung in the air. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.

Eric smirked at the horrified expressions I'm sure we were all wearing. "Thirty- four of you made it here last night, that means fourteen of you will be heading back out by the end of the summer."

"Why have they changed the rules?" Ben angrily demanded.

I closed my eyes for a moment at his stupidity. His Candor affinities were going to have to be stifled soon or else he would not be welcomed in Dauntless.

Eric's eyes snapped over to Ben, who looked like he choked on his saliva once his brain finally caught up with his mouth and he realized whom he had just questioned.

Eric's slow stroll over to where Ben was standing reminded me of a predator approaching particularly stupid prey. He looked like he was going to toy with him first. "Are you _questioning me_ initiate?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

But he might as well have screamed it for the fear that had obviously flooded Ben's system.

"No, sir," Ben mumbled, but I could see the humiliated anger burning in his eyes.

"Dauntless only accepts the best," Eric said while slowly circling Ben's shifty form. The two matched each other in height, but Eric's muscles made him almost twice as thick. "I'm assuming Four informed you how you will be ranked."

Four who was not so subtly glaring at Eric nodded. Eric smirked, "Carry on then," before striding back over to Four. While everyone else got back into position, I fumbled with the gun, keeping my eye on the two. Four's stiff posture and rigid jaw betrayed his feelings- Eric was not someone he considered a friend. And I had a feeling Eric knew it, but liked flaunting his obvious dominance.

When I ran out of reasons to stall and watch the pair, I raised my gun again. It felt heavier than before and my entire body protested, but I powered through it. Nothing screams motivation more than having the two people with the power to make you factionless watching. When it came to tests and recitals I always worked well under pressure, but these circumstances were completely different, so I immediately banished them from my mind. I was so focused on my target that I didn't notice when he left the room.

By the time Four called us to stop my muscles were shaking with strain and my hair was plastered to my forehead. My arms felt like rubber. I looked beside me and Justice was panting as if she had just given birth. Never in my life had I consider that simply shooting a gun would require so much energy! Never had I been so grateful for lunch.

If it wasn't for Ian clapping one thick finger on Justice's and my shoulders and pushing, I don't think we would have made it to the cafeteria very well. I was slightly worried that I felt more tired than my competitors, but when I gazed around at all the other transfers I noticed that all of them were heaving with exhaustion. Fern had dark purple bruises under her eyes and Claire was leaning on Patrick for support. I hoped that I was better at hiding my exhaustion. And nervousness singed through me- I wondered how the Dauntless-born group was faring. Surely they would be used to these kinds of activities.

Over lunch Henry joined Justice, Ian and I. We all discussed the events of the morning, being extra careful with our words, not wanting anyone to think we were complaining. And then we traded speculations of what the afternoon would have in store for us. Would it be more shooting? Physical fights? Obstacle course? All I knew was that I ate as much food as I could to replenish my energy, and that lunch was over far too quickly.

When lunch was over it seemed as though our entire group had heaved a collected sigh of reluctance and trailed back down to the training rooms as slow as possible with a time limit. Four was once again standing in slight shadows waiting for us. Large punching bags were now hanging or propped up on the left portion of the room.

"We are going to give your arm muscles time to heal and rest this afternoon and start kickboxing," Four said quiet murmuring broke out among the group. Everyone seemed much more agreeable and confident with their own bodies than they did at having to use the gun. "Everyone line up in front of a bag," Four instructed. "Watch."

I once again took to observing his form as he demonstrated the correct techniques to fight with the lower half of the body. He used the blunt side of his foot to make sharp jabs at bag. I watched as one powerful kick left the bag veering back to almost a forty-five degree angle. As the bag swung back, Four blocked it from hitting him with his shin.

"Now you try," he said after catching the bag.

I once again blocked everything around me out. I took a mental overlook of my body. My feet were firmly planted on the ground, angled towards the punching bag. My hips were at a slight angle, with my right side jutting out slightly where I would lift my leg. I tightened my midsection, but let my still sore arms hand loose. I finally lifted my foot up so it was at about shoulder level and kicked at the bag with the side of my foot.

The bag swung slightly, but if anything, I was off-balanced more than it.

I caught the bag with my hands and out of the corner of my eye saw Ian send one powerful kick at the bag, and it go flying back. I let out a huff and repositioned planting my left foot more firmly, and kicking out with more force with my right. I still stumbled, but not as much.

Four kept us doing various kicking drills all afternoon, and by the time we were dismissed for dinner, I was feeling less than amiable feelings towards him. Not only were my arms sore, my legs, especially my inner thighs were burning. Dinner was a quiet affair for all of the transfers. I think we were all too exhausted to gossip with each other. My legs were sore enough that I almost didn't want to go purchase some toiletries, but the frizzy ends of my hair convinced me.

"Where are you going?" Justice asked when I stood up from our table in the Dining Hall.

"I want to go buy some toiletries."

Justice immediately jumped to her feet and then winced slightly, "I'm coming with!"

We both turned to look at Ian. He shrugged, grabbed another sausage and moved closer to Henry.

We laughed and made our way out to the Pit.

"I wish this place had a damn map," Justice snarled. "I don't really want to be climbing all over the place after what we went through today."

"Me either, and just think what will have to do tomorrow," I said, already imaging the physical hell that was to come.

Justice grimaced, "Don't remind me…"

After only fifteen minutes of searching we finally found a pharmacy like store. Justice quickly grabbed a basket and started loading it up, but I walked towards the girl at the checkout counter. She had bubblegum pink hair and makeup painted on like a cartoon character.

"Excuse me," I politely said, and the girl huffed before setting down her magazine.

"You must be a transfer," she smirked.

I tilted my head questioningly. Sure I didn't look very old, so that could account for me being an initiate, but how would she know I was a transfer?

"Dauntless aren't nearly so polite," she answered my unspoken question.

From what I could see, I agreed with her.

"How many points are transfers given?"

"One hundred a week," she replied, before picking her magazine back up, and effectively cutting me off from asking any more questions.

I turned back to Justice, "You might have to put some of that stuff back. We only get one hundred points a week."

Justice sighed and her lips pulled down. She started putting a bunch of beauty products that in my opinion she definitely didn't need back.

"I'm sure between the two of us we can get everything we need," thinking of the items that we could easily share without risking bacterial infections.

Justice brightened slightly before showing me what she had picked up. Conditioner, face scrub, pain medication.

"Nice, what else do we need?"

Justice bit her lip, "Well I would love some eyeliner and mascara. Some muscle cream would be great too."

I had never really worn makeup before unless it was to an event. Makeup was impractical. It tricked people into thinking you looked different than you really were- or so said my mother. But I didn't want Justice to pay for everything we would share and then not buy her anything. So I put two tubes of eyeliner and mascara into my basket, "You will have to show me how to put on that stuff."

"_Really_?" Justice questioned, gaping at me.

I shrugged before adding muscle cream to my basket. "Makeup was not encouraged in Erudite, unless we were to attend parties."

Justice shook her head in disbelief and we made our way to the check out. The girl rung us up, and we each only had about fifteen points left.

"I am going to pass out when we get back to the dorm," Justice said, swinging her bag of goodies as we walked back.

"Me too," I said, my body already slightly regretting waking up so early.

When we returned to the dorm, almost everyone was already there. And it was only eight-thirty, but more than half of the transfers were tucked into their beds. Fern, Ben and Marina were whisper chatting to each other, but stopped once Justice and I entered the room. My back straightened at what they could possibly be scheming about.

I lay down in my bed and once again my mind begun buzzing with all the thoughts it repressed during the day. Slowly the whispering around me drifted off, the darkness lulling my fellow transfers to sleep. But still my mind prickled with thoughts of initiation- I _had _to make it, I wouldn't be factionless.

"_Are you nervous for your test," Alexander asked me, his naked body wrapped around mine. _

"_No. I know exactly where I belong." _

Those words were echoing around in my mind. Did I really know?

**A/N: Hi everyone, hope you enjoyed the chapter! We get a peek at Eric and more info about how things at Dauntless work. Thank you to everyone who read/followed/favourited and especially reviewed! I love hearing your feedback. This chapter is unedited (I am literally on my way out the door) I will be back to edit later!**

**Please review and let me know what you thought!**

**: ) Nyx**


	7. Challenge

**Chapter 6:**

"_The only thing_

_you can really control_

_is how you react_

_to things out_

_of your control."_

_-Bassam Tarazi_

The first week of training passed by slowly- or at least, I think it did. I no longer had a watch to go by, and the only time I caught a glimpse of the sun was of its fading rays through the Dining Hall's glass ceiling. Now my body was what counted time for me. Each minute of strain on my limbs, each second I felt the burn of my muscles, each drop of sweat descending down my neck; and nights of passing out on my dingy cot only to open my eyes to darkness again. It felt like an eternity had passed in one week.

Every day I would wake up early despite my exhaustion, and even with my new toiletries, I would speed shower before meeting Henry for breakfast. Sometimes the other male Erudite transfer Patrick would join us, but I dreaded those moments. Patrick was kind, but painfully shy and exhaustion transformed my wariness into irritability when it came to social niceties. I had no patience for carting to his social anxiety. After I was finished eating, I would return to the dorms and help Ian wake Justice up and finish getting ready. And that is where the torture would truly begin…

Scrambling to make down to the training room before eight o'clock without tripping on the uneven passages, or getting lost was not something I particularly enjoyed doing. But to follow that up with hours in the training room shooting heavy artillery _sucked_. The brief interlude of the day was lunch where we were all too tired and hungry to spend any time getting to know one another better. And that was followed by more hours of physical agony in the form of kickboxing.

_Rinse and repeat._

Part of me was angry at this stupid system! The meager hours we were granted in between training was not sufficient time for muscles to heal. How were we supposed to build endurance when our bodies were not given enough time to rest? And when were they going to teach us the real skills? Being an obedient soldier was one thing, and I could accept that we needed those, but what about strategizing? Or how to survive off of the land? So far no one had taught me what it takes to be 'leader material'. And I personally felt that learning how to overcome psychological obstacles would be more beneficial than kicking a sand bag every day. I once wrote an essay on PTSD and the effects it had on pre-faction soldiers and was shocked at the symptoms. I didn't want to be haunted by any of them, once the brain was compromised; the body was as good as dead.

Not to mention I was _tired_. Physically my body was exhausted from the trauma it faced all day, every day. But no matter how worn out I was, every night I would lay my head down on my pillow and my mind would remain alert; filled with thoughts and questions. Thoughts of my future- how exactly would I carve my path through Dauntless? Thoughts of my family- was my father still trying to figure out why I defected, was my mother still angry at what I knew she would consider a betrayal?

But most of all I missed _Alexander_. I missed our intimate and invigorating discussions about art, poetry, and music. I missed his incredibly blue eyes and crooked smile. And I missed the way warm tingles would shoot through my toes when he kissed me, and the look on his face when he reached the height of his passion. During the day I didn't have time to think of all these things. My brain was constantly cataloguing my body's movements, and how to improve. But at night he was all I could think of. My emotions were frazzled, my mind scattered, and my body ached to feel him again.

So as tired as I was of all the fighting, a part of me never complained because I knew that if it was any less demanding, I would have been reduced to a sobbing mess by now. That training was the perfect distraction I needed from thinking of my old home, my old _life_.

Waking up for the eighth day in a row I began my usually routine of stripping down and showering at light speed. I then met up with Henry and we begun our descent down to the Dining Hall. Thankfully Patrick was still sleeping.

"What do you think we will be doing today?" Henry asked, wiping sleep from his eyes.

I shot him a flat look, "My best guess would be the same thing we do _everyday_."

Henry sighed, "Four said there was three parts to training. They can't just keep us doing target practice and kickboxing all summer…"

"True, but we don't know how long this stage of initiation will be. We could end up doing this for another two months and then only spend a week in the other stages."

Henry grimaced, "I hope not. I'm too tired to deal with this."

I wholeheartedly agreed.

When we arrived at the Dining Hall it was as usual sparsely filled. A couple of older women, and the same man that read the newspaper every day. No sign of other initiates- Dauntless born or transfers.

Henry and I didn't talk much as we ate our scrambled eggs and toast. Not only was it too early for invigorating conversation despite both of us being early risers, we were both only half awake. And as we left I grabbed two muffins as per usual for Justice and Ian. When we arrived back Ian was pulling the threadbare blankets off of Justice's snoring form. She feebly kicked at him, but still didn't open her eyes.

"If you don't get up now you won't be able to shower. And you will be too tired tonight to shower, which will result in your smelling positively _rank,_" I briskly said as I slipped past her cot and flopped onto mine. Justice groaned, but she was far too vain to consider not showering and I was thankful for that.

I was less than enthusiastic on our trek down to the training room, but the sight that greeted me once I arrived stopped me dead in my tracks, and I wasn't the only one.

Two warriors were inside of the boxing ring. I wouldn't call what they were doing fighting because that seemed far too juvenile of a term. It was like the most brutally beautiful form of art. And each one of their strikes, blocks, kicks, and animalistic growled expletives absolutely mesmerized me. I could already feel my heart rate picking up pace in response to their blatant display of power and aggression.

Around me the rest of the transfers traded uneasy looks, not quite sure what to do at the sight of a leader and a trainer trading serious blows. But after about thirty seconds of standing at a cautious distance, everyone seemed to simultaneously creep forward. I moved along with them, my feet pulled by my wide eyes. Four and Eric paid us no mind, continuing to circle and strike at each other.

It was riveting to watch. Four was a couple inches taller than Eric, but Eric was undeniably more muscular. Any idiot would automatically assume that this would grant Eric the upper hand in the fight, but I knew that muscles didn't necessarily equal success. Eric apparently knew this as well.

My eyes focused in on his face, and I watched as he catalogued Four's every movement. A cobra ready to strike at the most opportune moment. Every time Four would leave himself open, Eric would rapidly and mercilessly strike; every blow Four aimed at him was blocked by one thick tattooed forearm or shin. His movements were sharp and surprisingly fluid for a man of his size. And even though he was only at the most twenty years old, Eric was undeniably a _man_. I had never witnessed anyone so starkly masculine in my life. He practically radiated testosterone.

Four by contrast seemed to be fuelled by intuition. He didn't study Eric's moves, he reacted to them, and then let his body follow up with an attack of his own. And in a way I could see why Four had berated me for using my brain because his fighting was purely instinctual, his movements severe. Eric moved like a snake, but Four moved like some kind of wild jungle cat. It made him unpredictable, and by the downward pull of Eric's lips he knew that too.

Quicker than my eye could see, Four struck his fist into Eric's sternum. Eric's eyes widened, but that was the only outward reaction he gave to just being punched. No wince, no faltering back, no gasping intake of air. And before Four had the chance to pull his arm back, Eric griped it and hauled him around. If it hadn't been so brutal I would have laughed as the two looked like they were locked in a lover's embrace. In some ways their fight did demonstrate intimacy. These two clearly knew everything about each other's fighting styles, every weakness, and every advantage when it came to sparring together.

Four pushed his heel into Eric's shin, but Eric didn't budge, in fact his grip tightened across Four's neck. I watched as Eric leaned forward whispered something to Four whilst smirking. Four's posture immediately became as rigid as possible while his neck was locked. He jabbed his elbow into the side where I knew Eric's kidney laid, and Eric immediately released him.

Instead of reengaging in the fight, the two fully fledged Dauntless members turned to face us.

I swallowed as their eyes still burning with bloodlust settled on us. Eric's cruel gaze locked on mine for a moment and I could see his eyes narrow for a moment before sweeping past me and settling on Justice. And I couldn't blame him, even amongst the flashy Dauntless, Justice stood out.

"Initiates today you will begin learning how to fight," Eric said, not bothering to raise his voice. He didn't need to, as all of us stood in nervous silence. "We have assessed your marksmanship skills, and Four taught you how to kick box, but now its time for hand to hand combat." His voice gave off an air of boredom, but vicious excitement danced in those slate coloured eyes.

Four dragged his glare away from Eric and addressed us, "Today Eric and I will be teaching you basic moves. Tomorrow you will begin testing these moves by fighting each other. Your status of winner or loser in each fight will be taken into consideration for rankings."

After Four stopped talking their was an awkward pause where all of us remained staring at the two not quite sure what to do next.

"Get into pairs," Eric growled at us.

I felt Justice immediately grab onto my elbow and was grateful. I knew that she wouldn't purposely try and injure me in order to damage me for the fighting tomorrow.

"Stand facing each other and copy our movements," Four said, still standing opposite Eric in the boxing ring.

Eric held both of his forearms up, fists facing out, to protect his face and neck, while Four reeled back his right arm and punched, his whole body lending momentum as his fist crashed into flesh and bone. Eric didn't falter back and raised a pierced eyebrow mockingly, but stayed silent.

"Now you do it," Four said straightening out of his slight crouch.

I turned to face Justice and she immediately said, "You block first."

My mind immediately weighed the pros and cons. If I blocked first my arms would be sore from her hits, which might damage my own ability to hit. But it would also lend me more time to heal for tomorrow. And tomorrow was a day that would actually count in our evaluation. So I bit my tongue and nodded bringing my arms up in front of my face. My first thought was that Eric made this look a lot simpler when he was facing off with Four. Because with my arms in front of my face I had not idea where exactly Justice was going to strike.

Justice's fist lightly hit me on my left forearm near my elbow. I dropped my arms and the two of us locked eyes before bursting out in giggles. In knew that without a doubt we looked ridiculous. I was not short per se- being a rather average height, but Justice was tall. So to have the two of us sparring like this was rather amusing. Justice turned and looked around before spotting Four heading towards us. I quickly raised my arms again, and Justice landed another hit, this time harder. I suppressed my wince as he walked by. Justice and I traded secret smiles as we seemingly got away with our little bout of childishness.

When Four called time, we switched positions. The moment Justice raised her arms to block her face I truly realized how difficult it would be for a person of my stature to fight a bigger opponent. Even reaching Justice's jugular with my fists would be problematic, especially when she was expecting the blow. Whereas if this was a real fight she could have just cuffed me on the side of the head and I would be down for the count. I would have to work on dodging taller opponents.

I practiced my hits, but was inwardly cataloguing where on her body I should actually be aiming- her kidneys, ribs, feet and groin. All the places on the body with clusters of highly sensitive nerve endings or vital organs that could be easily damaged if hit with the right angle and force.

It was as I was scanning Justice's lithe body for weak spots that Eric made his approaching, circling around us. I don't know how I didn't notice at first, because at all times his presence practically commanded attention. Out of my peripheral vision I noticed that his eyes were fixed intently on Justice, and her ability to block my hits.

"You're too loose," his gravelly voice informed Justice. "If you don't tighten your core muscles, you will be knocked backwards in a real fight." His narrowed grey eyes turned to me, "You're not aiming at the correct areas on your opponent."

I bit my lip. Out of all the people in Dauntless, Eric was the last person that I wanted to talk back to. But I suppose just one week in the faction of the brave my spine had thickened, and I was thoroughly confused.

"Four told us to mimic your movements, and he aimed at your throat," I said, and even with my new- found confidence, I wasn't quite able to meet his eyes.

If Eric was surprised at my statement of the obvious in the form of backtalk her didn't show it. "Well hitting her, or anyone above 5'8 in the neck is going to be a little difficult for you," he said, condescending undertones ringing in my ears. "Where should you really be aiming?"

I scanned Justice again not wanting to leave out a single weak spot I had picked up on. "If this was a real fight I would aim for her sternum, ribs, kidneys and groin. And since she tends to lean more towards her right I would aim my hits towards her open left."

Justice's eyes widened, while Eric just stared at me with an unreadable look on his face. It was simultaneously frustrating not knowing what a person who held the power over my future was thinking, and comforting as it reminded me of my Erudite life. But still, that calculating gaze was unnerving, and I had to fight my natural response to fidget under his intimidating eyes. Finally he gave me one sharp nod before turning to the next sparing pair.

Justice let out an audible sigh of relief as she watched him circle Ben and Fern. I too felt a load of tension lift from my shoulders.

But when Justice faced me again, her dark eyes looked troubled, "Lyra, why didn't you tell me I was leaving my left side open?"

I didn't know exactly what to tell her. Justice was my first friend in Dauntless and I didn't want to lose her, but another part of me was explicitly aware that this was a competition. I settled for shrugging and widening my green eyes, "I'm sorry, I probably should have said something, but to be fair I just noticed it with your last two hits."

Her dark eyes considered me for a moment. "Alright, but let me know next time when you spot something."

I nodded in agreement.

She craned her neck back again to look around. "I don't know how they expect us to learn anything in training with those two prowling around," she whispered, gesturing to where Four was correcting Marina's stance.

I grimaced, "They want to know that we can handle ourselves under high pressure situations I guess."

She snorted, "Nothing says high pressure like having Four bark orders at you or disintegrating under Eric's stare."

"That for sure!"

By the time Four dismissed us for lunch Justice and I had bruises blooming on the outside of my forearms and my elbow was throbbing angrily at an accidental hit. Ian by contrast looked chipper, his arms only slightly red.

"That was fun, wasn't it!" he said as he sauntered over to the platter of lasagna.

I snorted, "Fun for you maybe."

Justice huffed, "You were paired with _Claire_ so its not like you had anything to worry about."

Ian went silent and it took a moment for Justice to notice how rude her comment was. I bit my lip in amusement as she tried backtracking, "Not that she is bad, you two are just unevenly matched."

But I couldn't help that notice that Justice probably had intended her words to bite a little because of the attention the redhead was receiving from Ian.

"I wonder who will be facing off against each other tomorrow," Justice pondered.

I considered it for a moment too wondering if they would pair us by perceived matching skill levels.

"I think it will be random," Ian said through a mouthful of food. I wrinkled my nose at his bad table manners.

"Why?" Justice asked.

He swallowed, "I think that all of us will eventually have to fight each other. It helps improve skills against any type of opponent you may face," Ian explained.

My eyebrows shot up, "You may be right."

Ian scoffed, "Do I want to know why you sound so surprised?" Justice and I broke into giggles again.

Lunch was over far too soon though and Four was leading us back to the training room. We immediately pair up again, but Four stopped us.

"In the afternoons, we will be focusing on you skills with a blade. First we will begin by throwing it, and then you will learn how to handle it in a close range fight," he explained.

My steps toward the targets were slightly more confident. I had done well with the guns once I got the motions down. The only thing I had working against me was my arms tiring, but knives were much lighter.

My confidence betrayed me though. Balancing a blade was much harder than I anticipated. And even though I had an eagle eye stare on Four's demonstration, I still couldn't get my blade to the point where I wanted it. And this time I didn't have the gruff trainer giving me pointers, as he was too busy correcting Ben's stance.

I watched Henry out of the corner of my eye as he consistently got his knife in the inner rings of the bull's eye. It was all in his eye and wrist movements. I tried copying his stance and it did help, but I still didn't manage to get one knife in the inner three circles. I found my enthusiasm for this particular activity completely drained by the time Four released us for dinner.

By the time I crawled into my bed that night I felt as though my energy had been tapped. Yet at the same time I yearned to run. My head once again was buzzing with thoughts like bees in a hive. Every spare memory, emotion or question that I had managed to suppress during the day came floating to the surface. And I decided that before the end of the week I would either find a treadmill or slip out of headquarters in the middle of the night and run free. It would be dangerous and I didn't know what the consequences were if I was caught. But I was Dauntless now, it was time I embraced a little danger.

That thought was quickly stifled come morning. I completed my regular routine, but by the time I was huddled in the training room with my fellow initiates I felt dread fill me. Because Eric was leaning against a chalk board with the label OPPONENTS and a list of names. My eyes scanned the table and stopped dead.

_LYRA VS. HENRY_

**A/N: Hey everyone, hope you enjoyed the chapter! It actually gave me some difficulty, so that's why it's a little late. And my life is hectic!**

**Thank you to all those that reviewed, I really love hearing from you. And I'm glad so many people are now following this fic, please don't be shy in giving me feedback : )**

**This chapter is shorter than some of the others because I had to cut it into two, next part is where we will get some real Eric/Lyra interaction and some fighting!**


	8. Damage

**Chapter 7:**

"_Don't _

_underestimate me._

_I know more than I say,_

_Think more than I speak_

_& notice more than you_

_realize."_

_-Anonymous_

I tried to swallow the unpleasant nervousness that had risen in my throat at the thought of having to face off against Henry. I wasn't successful though as my eyes searched through our small group and finally settled on his tall form.

I didn't want Henry to be my opponent in any type of fight, but especially not my _first _combative fight. My odds of winning against him were extremely slim, as he had the advantage of height, weight, and power. His slim figure was deceiving, but the tight Dauntless black tee shirt that clung to his abs could not deny that Henry had some seriously well developed muscles. And from our morning breakfasts together I knew that he had studied combat skills back in Erudite. Not to mention Henry was my friend.

"We have assessed you on your progress so far with all the other skills you have been practicing," Four said, moving to the other side of the chalkboard. "But fights are weighed more heavily in deciding on rankings."

My heart sank in my chest. I was moderately talented at all the other skills (except knife throwing) so far, which put me at what I'd estimate the middle of the pack. But if I lost this fight against Henry (which I probably would my mind informed me) then my chances of becoming factionless would greatly increase.

"Ian and Ben you're up first," Eric said, his eyes glittering with something that resembled anticipation.

I squeezed Ian's arm and heard Justice whisper 'I know you'll kick that douchbag's ass' before he marched up to the boxing ring. Ben too climbed in after. He towered over my short friend, but Ian's stockiness made him almost twice as thick.

"The fight ends when one of you cannot continue," Eric began until Four cut him off.

"- Or until one of you concedes."

Eric sent him a murderous glare, to which Four looked utterly non-pulsed. But Eric grudgingly nodded his head in agreement.

I peeled my eyes away from Eric's scowling face and focused back on Ben and Ian. As much as I wanted to worry about my fight and muse on what strategies I should employ against Henry, I knew I needed to pay attention. Learning the other initiates' strategies was key so not only could I attempt them, but also incase I had to face them in a future fight.

Ben wore an unsettling smirk on his narrow face as if he already thought he had won. I don't know why he was so confident because Ian had proved himself to be remarkable in every activity we had performed so far. Ian stood opposite him, wearing an uncharacteristically blank face- something I'd yet to see on any of the Candor transfers.

"_Today _initiates!" Eric barked.

Ben didn't need telling twice, he immediately swung his fist at Ian's head. Ian ducked and shot out his elbow, striking Ben in the chest. Ben stumbled back and wheezed and Ian used this advantage to move forward, but this time Ben easily blocked his kick.

My eyes drank in every punch, kick, and headlock- every strength and every weakness. I watched their feet, torso and arms move like they were in a dance and not quite familiar with the steps.

Ian was powerful, had dizzying punches, and unexpected moves, but he was slow moving, constantly forgot to block his ribs, and didn't have the balance to kick well. Ben too had powerful punches, but his kicks were even more forceful due to his long legs. He obviously wasn't afraid to fight dirty, as I noticed his whispering things at Ian while the fight progressed, but he didn't have any strategy, which made him predictable. And this ultimately led to his downfall as Ian blocked an anticipated kick and sent one blow to the side of Ben's head, knocking him out.

Four circled Ian's name on the chalkboard and I scanned the board- there were two more fights until I had to face Henry.

Four nodded at Ian, which I suppose was his way of saying 'congratulations' before motioning for a man with a red shirt standing in the darkness to bring Ben to the infirmary. Once Ben was gone he turned back to us. "Fern and Claire, you're up next."

Fern was much better at concealing her obvious pleasure at her opponent than Ben was. But even though her lips didn't curl into a smirk, I could see the triumphant satisfaction dancing in her cold eyes. And this time I had reason to think she was right. I honestly had no idea why Claire would have chosen Dauntless, as she displayed none of their trademark characteristics. If she wanted to leave Erudite so badly, then I wonder why she didn't pick Amity. The peaceful faction seemed to suit her timid personality much better.

Claire didn't have the same control over her emotions like Fern or Ian did. I could see the nervousness in her jittering leg, and her panicked eyes searching for a way out of this situation. I felt bad for the girl, but she did choose this. And what did she really expect from Dauntless after all?

The second Claire stepped onto the mat Fern was on her. I winced as a brutal right hook collided with her unprotected jaw. Claire fell and Fern didn't hesitate to kick her in the ribs. I almost wanted to look away, but knew that studying Fern's technique would come in handy later. Claire coughed and bright red blood splattered onto the mat. That meant that there was a good possibility that Claire had internal damage. She started mumbling, but it was hard to hear what she was saying, and instead of fighting back she curled herself into a ball, her legs protecting her torso, and arms around her head. Fern finally allowed a chilling smile to grace her lips as she sent a blow to Claire's spine. A crack shot out through the silent room, and Claire fell forward limply.

"Enough!" Four snarled running forward as Fern was drawing her leg back for another kick.

Eric's face looked utterly bored as he leisurely meandered over to the mat.

"She needs medical attention now," Four said his voice filled with quiet urgency, but we could all hear him in the silence that had filled the room.

We watched as a group of people descended from the shadows of the room, all clad in black pants and bright red tee shirts. They swarmed around Claire and in less than three minutes she was carried out of the room. Murmurs of punctured lung and possible fractured vertebrae echoed in the stone chamber.

The smugness faded from Fern's face as she noticed all of the horrified looks directed at her by my fellow transfers.

"Initiates you are to spar with each other, not try and beat each other to death," Four snarled, his dark blue eyes flashing angrily at Fern. "You will be fighting everyday until the end of this stage, you cannot beat each other so badly that it will be impossible to continue. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir," we all said, our eyes still widened in shock at what had just occurred.

"And," Four said, slowly moving to Fern, "if someone even whispers that they concede you stop fighting. Or else _you're out_!"

Any colour that was in Fern's bronze face abruptly faded. She nodded jerkily, and ran over to her post beside Marina. And even Marina looked uncomfortable standing beside her.

My eyes slithered past Fern to Eric, who had his hands behind his head and was gazing at the rock ceiling, as if an initiate was not just beaten to near death. I nearly stumbled when his head turned slowly and his blue eyes locked onto me. No emotion registered on his handsome, if not harsh face. "_Next_!" he abruptly said, his gaze flitting to the chalkboard.

"Marina's not on the board," Ian whispered to me, as we both watched Justice saunter her long legs into the ring. Patrick trailed meekly behind her.

My eyes immediately shot back to the chalkboard. And sure enough he was right. Marina's name was not printed on the board. "There are an uneven number of us. I guess one person sits out everyday."

Ian snorted, "Too bad it wasn't Claire's day."

I turned to really study Ian and noticed the concerned look on his face. I wasn't sure what to make of it. Part of me knew that getting attached to people here would be a bad idea. That could involve messy feelings if either they or I fail initiation. But I was already neck deep in messy feelings concerning every other aspect of my life, so I staunchly ignored that rule. The other part of me felt worried for Justice. When I first met the two I knew that they were crushing on each other, but Ian's growing attention and concern towards Claire hinted at a crush. I too felt sorry for my fellow Erudite transfer, but Ian's unease was distinctly different than that of an aloof acquaintance. The sound of flesh hitting flesh caused me to snap out of my musings and focus on the fight.

Patrick had Justice in a headlock. But Justice was shoving her elbow into Patrick's side where some valuable organs sat. When she simultaneously shoved her elbow into his ribs and slammed her heel onto his foot, Patrick released her and doubled over. Justice used this advantage to knee Patrick in the face, and more crimson blood was added to the mat.

"I concede," Patrick panted through his bloody nose.

Four nodded as he circled Justice's name, but Eric sneered down at Patrick like he was the vilest human he had ever met.

"Lyra and Henry, you're up next," Four said, as he tuned to face us.

I felt my heart stutter in my chest before tripling the pace. Nerves lodged in my throat, so I calmly breathed through my nose. If I let panic settle upon me, I could get tunnel vision, which would only hinder me in a fight. The only thing I really benefitted from panicking was the adrenalin now surging through my system. My instincts were telling me 'fight or flight' but my mind told me there was only one option.

I climbed into the ring and faced Henry. My dilated pupils still noticed that he was not wearing that usual sunny smile that he greeted me in the morning with. No, facing me was my opponent, even if his eyes revealed a hint of hesitation. And despite the small mercy, I needed to figure out a way to beat him.

So I decided to do the unexpected and strike first. I darted forward and Henry crouched down to protect what he seemingly thought my target was-his sides. But that lent me the advantage and I cuffed him hard on the ear with my fist. Disoriented, Henry stumbled back and I slammed my fist into his ribcage. But this time I wasn't fast enough to escape his retaliation. When the punch hit my collarbone I felt pain instantly flare like a flame springing to life within me. I knew I had to ignore it, so I backed away.

Henry's dark eyes were studying me even more guarded now. He clearly had learned not to underestimate me now, which lost me my advantage.

"Come on already," I heard Eric jeer, but I ignored it. He didn't exist. No one existed but Henry and me inside this ring.

I didn't have time to move as Henry shoved forward and tackled me to the ground. He raised a fist to bring down on my face, but I rolled out of the way. My leg shot out and I kicked him hard in the same spot of his ribs. He grunted with pain, but grabbed my leg, throwing me off balance and dragging me forward. I had to bring up my arms to block my face, just like Four and Eric taught us. But the light jabs Justice offered me couldn't compare to the dizzying pain I felt went Henry's fist made contact with my forearm. I bucked my hips and he fell slightly to the side presenting me with a golden opportunity. I slammed my elbow into Henry's neck with no remorse.

Henry wheezed, but before I could scramble away I watched his dark eyes bore into mine. And in that moment I couldn't recognize any hint of the friend I shared my meals with. This was a cold and merciless man- completely primal and I was a target. And before I had the chance to do anything, a large fist came at me and darkness was all I knew.

…

When I blinked my eyes open the first thing I noticed was that I was not in my bedroom at home, or the Dauntless dormitory. The ceiling in this room was made of white bricks, curving into a simple arch. The second thing I became aware of was the noise. I could hear the hum of machinery, and the soft voices and light padding of boots. And finally I noticed the pain in my body. I was a dull throbbing sort of pain, which was the first indication that I was under the influence of some sort of medication.

"Finally, you're up!" A loud voice near me exclaimed. "I've been waiting for ages, and I was getting _soo _bored."

It felt like it took all my energy just to turn my head and see where the noise was coming from. Dark eyes, dark hair, heart shaped face. Justice.

She whistled lowly in her throat, "That is one nasty shiner darkening on your face!"

I grimaced as I felt my right eye socket throbbing, along with my collarbone and arms. "What did they give me?" I asked, and internally added, 'and when can I get some more?'

Justice shrugged, "I don't know. I wasn't here when they brought you up."

I sighed and let my shoulders slump into the scratchy pillows. "I suppose I lost then."

Justice's face was filled with uneasy hesitation. It was times like these that reminded me she used to be in Candor because her face showed emotions as clearly as if she said them out loud. "Yeah," she said quietly. "But I'm sure Four and Eric will take into account that your fight was not really fair. You had a much bigger opponent, and your hits were really great. Henry even had to come in here for an x-ray," she quickly added, almost tripping over her words.

But if anything they made me feel worse. _I lost_. I was one step closer to being factionless.

"I have the perfect thing to cheer you up though!" Justice said, a mega watt smile. "We get tomorrow off because it's the weekend, and tonight they are holding a party for us!" I smiled wanly but Justice didn't seem to notice. "It's going to be in the Pit around nine. You'll come right?"

I sighed softly. I didn't really want to go to a party. I knew it wouldn't be beneficial to my health. Thumping music that the Dauntless always seemed to favor, along with strobe lights and crowded spaces did not seem to be a good remedy for the concussion that I doubtlessly had. But truthfully I knew that that wasn't the real reason. I could take some Pytec medication, which would rid me of brain swelling and be fine, but I was in a sulky mood. I just wanted to be alone.

"Silly me," Justice said, throwing back her long hair. "Of course you will come. There are plenty of Dauntless men to ogle at," she grinned cheekily.

More guy problems were the last thing I needed, seeing as I was still in love with someone I didn't think I would ever see again. But the challenging glint in Justice's eyes told me that I was not getting out of this. "Of course I'm coming," I mumbled. "What time is it now?"

"Four thirty."

"Thanks for coming by, but do you mind if I get a bit more sleep before dinner? I can meet you in the Dining Hall."

Justice's stare was uncharacteristically shrewd. "Alright." She rose to her feet and took a few steps towards the door, but stopped and turned. "But just remember Lyra, everyone loses at some point. Its how you handle the loss that defines you."

I swallowed thickly as she strode out the door. I didn't know how to handle loss. In Erudite I never lost. I had always been smart, charismatic, and mildly pretty. The only loss that I experienced thus far was an emotional one at being separated from my home faction and everyone within it. But I suppose I hadn't really dealt with that loss either. It was hard when there was no closure- every _what if_ had haunted my mind. And this beating from Henry was harsh on my body, but it was more agonizing on my mind. I slumped in my borrowed bed and spent the next two hours going over every move I made in that ring, and where I went wrong.

By the time I dragged my body down to the Dining Hall I was feeling better. The nurses had given me Pytec for my concussion and some cream to slather on my bruises to decrease the swelling. When I reached the table with Justice, Ian and Henry, Ian chuckled through the mouthful of hamburger he was eating.

"You make a pretty sight," he said partially swallowing.

I grimaced at the lack of manners, and the truth behind the statement. I hadn't looked in a mirror yet, but I was sure my face was a mess. So not only was my confidence diminished, but also my ego.

I sat down beside Justice and put a burger on my plate when I found a hand hovering in front of my holding out the ketchup bowl. My eyes shot up to find Henry staring intently at me, a pleading look filling his brown eyes.

"Thanks," I said accepting the bowl.

"Lyra, I'm so-" Henry started, but I cut him off.

"Don't worry about it. We were doing exactly as told."

Henry smiled tentatively back at me, as if he wasn't quite sure how sincere I was. And truthfully, neither was I.

"Why are you sitting _there_?" A melodious voice from behind me questioned.

I turned around to see Fern's face staring right at me. Two blonde eyebrows had risen in question. "That's the _winners _table," she continued, a smirk lifting her lips.

"Then why aren't _you _sitting here?" I shot back, "Oh right, because you're not a winner, you're a _savage_ who beats people even after they beg you to stop."

Fern's face went white and both her table and my table filled with silence. After another moment passed where she still remained speechless, I turned back around and picked up my burger. But that little voice inside of me- that voice that pointed out how beautiful Caroline Lumley was asked me _'what was I doing at the winners table_'? I knew this voice, it had a name: _envy_. And envy pointed out that I might as well enjoy my meals with these people while I could because I might not be here much longer. I dropped my half eaten burger onto my plate with a huff, and when I looked up everyone was staring at me. "Sorry, the meds make me nauseous," I lied easily. Henry winced.

Justice pushed her empty plate away from her. "Its week two, which means we have a hundred more points. I want to get something done."

"Like what?" Ian asked, tilting his head, as his eyes scanned her body.

Justice might as well have fluffed up her feathers for the obvious enjoyment she got out of his appraisal. " I dunno. A tattoo, or a piercing maybe... Lyra has to come with me and help me decide," she said, giving him a meaningful look.

The two were idiots if they thought that I didn't notice that this was a ruse to make me feel better. And because I was grateful that they were good enough friends to do so, I went along with it.

"I guess I could come."

"Great!" said Justice, jumping to her feet. She latched onto my arm and dragged me to mine. "Maybe you will get something too."

Not likely.

The walk up to the tattoo parlor did not help my sore body, but I didn't complain. Justice was jabbering on the whole time about how she wanted a tattoo of a dream catcher on her lower calf. I hummed and hawed, but I didn't see the point in getting a tattoo. Even if we got tomorrow off, it would still be sensitive for the next day of fighting.

"What can I help you ladies with?" A man whose every inch of skin except for his face was covered with tattoos asked.

Justice's jaw hung agape as her eyes traced the tat of a topless mermaid covering his bicep. I elbowed her in the side, "She wants a tattoo."

Justice nodded, and began describing exactly what she wanted. I tuned out the conversation and walked around the shop looking at various pictures. In some ways they reminded me of the art books Alexander and I would go over. Which slightly surprised me as I never really considered that Dauntless would appreciate art before- they all seemed to hard to allow for artistic appreciation. But I suppose to tattoo art onto your body permanently must allow for some sort of emotional attachment. But then again a half naked mermaid didn't really scream 'artistic expression' as much as 'I like tits'.

I briefly glanced over at the pair when I heard the buzzing of another needle start up, but when Justice didn't cry out in pain, I continued my exploration. And that's when I found it. Tucked away in a little book, a tattoo that I could picture residing on my body. And I promised myself that after all this was over I would get it.

"Lyra, look!" Justice squealed.

I turned and saw a dainty dream catcher inked on her leg, just above her left ankle. It was swollen and bleeding slightly, but it suited her. "Looks great," I said smiling.

Justice gushed about the tattoo all the way back to the dormitory, and I let her. Because part of me knew that she was doing this to distract me from sullen thoughts.

"I guess it won't take long to get ready for the party seeing as we have nothing to wear," she said rooting through the box of clothes we all kept under our cots.

Two long sleeve black shirts, a tank top, two pairs of paint on black pants, two sports bras, and a full weeks worth of underwear. That was what Dauntless had bequeathed us.

I lounged on my cot trying to ignore the persistent spring digging into my back, as Justice tried on each of her shirts three times. "Just wear the black one," I said smirking.

She threw one of her pairs of pants at me huffing. I chuckled, but closed my eyes and begun to doze off, catching that nap that I lied about taking earlier. I hissed in pain when a rough hand shook me awake, jarring my sore shoulder.

"Sorry," Justice said, her hands quickly surrendering, "but I don't think you're supposed to sleep this much with a concussion, even if you did take meds."

I scowled slightly, my lie to get Justice out of the infirmary obviously backfiring.

"What do you think?" Justice asked. She was wearing the black tank top she favored and the same black pants, but her eye makeup was applied smokier than usual.

"You look very nice," I complimented. She could have been wearing Abnegation rags and still look amazing.

Justice smiled, but then sighed in exasperation as she tried to adjust the straps of her tank top. "I wish they gave us more than sports bras. I need all the help I can get up top, and these things just flatten the little I have."

I tried to roll my eyes, but the one still hurt too much. "You're gorgeous, stop complaining."

"Easy for you to say, _you _have boobs that are actually noticeable."

I offered her a flat look, "At least you don't have to go to the party sporting a black eye."

Justice winced, "Have you taken a look at yourself yet? Because a bunch of blood vessel popped- probably when you were napping in the infirmary, half of your black eye is red."

I grimaced. _Great_. "I don't want to see it."

Justice shifted nervously, "I'd offer to do your makeup, but I don't think that's a good idea." I snorted and she smiled, "On the bright side this is Dauntless, they will probably think your badass!"

_"For losing?_"

The look Justice gave me clearly stated that she was sick of my pity fest. "You lost _one _fight to an opponent that was bigger and stronger than you. You'll win the next one. _Get over it_."

I sighed. It was easy for her to say, she won her fight. But I had to stick to my new resolve. I wanted that tattoo, and the only way to get it was passing. I wasn't going to be factionless. There would be no more losing. So I raised my sore body off my cot and followed an excited Justice down to the Pit.

The Pit was teaming with life. Loud music pumped out of the speakers, the bass like a heartbeat. Coloured lights were the only thing illuminating the space- just like I predicted. All around me people were holding alcohol and either talking (yelling) near the Dauntless flame, (which seemed very dangerous, but I guess that's the point) or dancing. And when I say dancing, they were grinding all over each other in what looked like a clothed form of foreplay. I had to admit I was intrigued. This was nothing like to closed- door policy of Erudite.

"Come on, I see Ian," Justice said, pulling my arm.

Ian was standing with a crowd of people that looked to be the same age as us. I recognized Henry and Marina standing with him.

"What's _she _doing with them," Justice said, when she too spotted Marina.

I shrugged, "Probably doesn't know anyone else here."

"Hey," Justice said, coming to a stop beside Ian.

"Hey Jay," Ian smiled, he dark eyes dancing as he took her in. "Meet Ivy, Silas, Marco and Sienna. They're Dauntless born initiates."

They all stood out much more than us with Ivy's platinum blonde hair, Silas' two lip piercings, Marco's blue spiked hair and Sienna's heavy eyeliner. But they all seemed nice enough, despite their rather contradictory appearances.

"Nice eye," Ivy said tilting her head curiously at me, "how'd you get it?"

I figured that this was one of those questions designed to test my reaction. As it was clear _how _I got it. All the initiates began fighting today. "I was punched," I simply said.

Henry shifted awkwardly, and Ivy dropped the subject.

As the group shouted at each other in order to be heard over the music, I let my eyes flitter around. I spotted two women furiously kissing against a wall, a fist fight brewing near the Dauntless fire and Four drinking with some older people. These were all such foreign sights to me.

I had never witnessed an openly same sex couple before. My eyes were drawn to the women. One had bottle red hair and the other a black mohawk. Their foreheads were fused together and they traded words after breaking their kiss. They looked just as passionate as any other heterosexual couple, and even though I wasn't used to such open displays of affection, I couldn't help but wonder why some factions had a problem with couples like them. Erudites in particular were not accepting of homosexuality- relationships were acknowledged for the sole purpose of procreating, and to engage in one otherwise was seen as pointless and a distraction from their real love lives- work.

And as for the dancing mob, I didn't know whether to be intrigued or disgusted at such open displays of sexuality. After having tasted desire I knew that there were moments where you felt like your skin was on fire you wanted someone so badly. But never had I lost so much control over myself that I had engaged in any public acts, especially since Alexander was off limits. But their rough and yet strangely fluid movements was oddly compelling.

And finally spotting Four talking and laughing with people who were obviously his friends was a strange sight. I had never seen our gruff instructor with anything other than furrowed brows or a frown of concentration. This looser side of Four was almost comical, but I turned away so he wouldn't catch me looking.

When my focused returned to my social group I noticed that I had mostly been abandoned. Justice and Ian were dancing (which was almost funny to watch because of their height difference), Ivy and Silas were making out, and everyone else except for Henry and Sienna seemed to have gone on a quest to get drinks. My eyes still felt heavy, and the thumping music was starting to give me a headache.

I tapped on Henry's shoulder interrupting his conversation, "I'm going to head back to the dorms. Can you let Justice know?"

A concerned look crossed his face, "Are you sure? You're doing okay right?"

I smiled, "I'm fine, just tired. I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow." And with that final statement Henry looked like a weight had been lifted off of him. An assurance that I didn't hold our fight against him.

I turned and left the party, the thumping music rattling the floors less and less as I trekked upstairs. But I wasn't really tired, so I decided to do the one thing I had been longing to. I was going to find a gym, and I was going to run.

It took maybe twenty minutes of poking my head into different rooms before I found the gym on one of the top floors. It was barren, which made sense as all of the usual patrons were probably down at the party. But that suited me perfectly, as I wasn't quite sure if I was allowed to be in here. I walked towards a treadmill, and looked it over. It was simpler than the ones in Erudite. I then look down at my boot- clad feet. These would not do. So I shucked off the black leather boots and stepped onto the tread with my bare feet. I may get calluses, but it would be worth it.

As the machine started up, and my legs started to move I finally felt a cathartic sort of release within me. All of the thoughts that had been nagging at my mind were available for me to analyze in depth, or dismiss. And think I did. I thought about my family- how we were never close so losing me would not take long for them to get over. And I in turn would find my new family within this faction. I thought about Alexander, my mind straying to couples at the party. My body ached for his touch again. Every part of me missed him… Was he angry with me? Did he miss me? Had he moved on?

My legs were pumping furiously now and I felt sweat clinging to my back. In one simple move, I shucked my shirt over my head leaving me in just my sports bra and pants. The garment landed with a thump on the ground, but I had hardly noticed, my mind gone again. But my body was aching, and it was hard to completely free myself when so many limbs felt like they were on fire.

"What are you doing in here grunt?" a voice questioned from close behind me.

I shrieked and nearly fell off the treadmill. Thankfully I caught the side bar, or else I would have added more damage to my injuries and to my ego. I hit the _pause_ button, and turned around wiping sweat out of my eyes. But my body froze in shock at who stood in front of me, and I felt my stomach plummet to my knee. Eric's pierced eyebrow was cocked in question.

"Running," I quietly replied, and wondered if he would get me in trouble for once again stating the obvious. My mouth felt dry from exertion and now nervousness. Being in his presence made me feel like a mouse waiting for the cat to pounce.

Eric stepped forward crowding my space, which was an incredible feat seeing as the treadmill raised me off the ground. With the machine's boost I was still only at neck level with him. "I can see that," his gravelly voice mocked. "What I want to know is why?"

"I like running," I said before turning back around. My heart was pumping with more than just exertion now as I brushed him off. I don't know what was making me act so rashly. My hand reached out, fingers just brushing against the _start_ button, when two giant hands cupped my waist and spun me around.

His grey eyes were narrowed into irritated slits. "How did you find this place?"

I shrugged, and focused on where his neck tattoo peaked out of the collar of his black wife-beater. "Looked around until I found it."

"And if you hadn't found the gym what would you of done?" he questioned, and I noticed that his eyes were not scanning my rather bare body. No, they were fixed on my black and red eye.

I remained silent. I knew what my answer was. I would have snuck out in the middle of the night and taken off when I reached my breaking point. Even if security caught me, I couldn't have managed with everything bottled up so long. I knew better than to tell him that though.

In a surprisingly gentle motion one finger cupped my chin and tilted my face up so I was staring into his grey eyes. "You're full of all kinds of secrets aren't you?" he whispered, his grip on my chin turning into a vice.

I didn't cry out, or give any indication that he was hurting me. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of witnessing more of my weakness.

He leaned in closer and I felt like my whole body collectively froze in dreaded anticipation of what he was going to do. Eric's large frame made me feel like a cornered animal, and his menacing personality almost made me want to strike out in response. Instead he reached over my shoulder and pressed the _start_ button. The treadmill whirled to life and I stumbled for a minute before turning around and running.

"Next time you fight, don't hesitate. I don't care if you are facing off against your mother, you take your opponent down as quick as you can, in _any_ way that you can," Eric said, his voice sitting close to my ear. My body felt as if electrical currents were stretched between where he was in proximity to me. I tilted my head and caught his form retreating out of my peripherals. "And grunt," Eric said as he stood in the door way; I turned around to look at him, "I'll be watching you."

When he disappeared from the room I felt the tightness in my body sag. New thought exploded in my head like fire works. How did he know I was keeping secrets? Why would he help me? How did I manage to capture one of the most dangerous men in Dauntless' attention? And what did it mean '_I'll be watching you_.' With a confused sigh I pressed a button, turning the speed of the track up.

**A/N: Hi everyone, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. This is my longest chapter yet! And we now have our first interaction with Eric and Lyra. It was short, but important in the long scheme of things. **

**In the book they mention a lot of 'new' rules like not being able to concede, but I'm making it so that rule hasn't been instated yet.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I really love hearing from you, and take into mind all of your thoughts when writing! Please continue to drop a line!**

**: ) Nyx**


	9. Fury

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Divergent world.

**Chapter 8:**

"_I can't tell if_

_it's killing me_

_or it's making_

_me stronger."_

_-Anonymous_

By the time I made it back to the dormitory my back was soaked with sweat and my legs felt like jelly. For the first time since I had started running I felt like I might vomit. But I swallowed down my gag reflex just incase anyone was passed out in their beds. I didn't need any more witnesses to my body's weakness today.

When I finally reached the dorm it was surprisingly empty. But then again I wasn't sure how long I had been in the gym for. After my encounter with Eric I had to spend at least forty- five more minutes running out the train of thoughts he left from my mind. But it was a Dauntless party downstairs, and I doubt anyone adhered to a strict midnight curfew that my old faction was so fond of. I threw my sweat-soaked shirt onto the bed before grabbing my toiletries and heading into the bathroom. After a week here I was still not immune to its dingy state.

I turned on the water and paused allowing for it to heat up the miniscule bit. But movement in the corner caught my eye. I turned and what faced me was _me_. A mirror that was usually dominated by Fern braiding her hair or Justice stroking on mascara was for once empty. I hadn't wanted to see my mangled reflection earlier today, but now I couldn't look away. I looked so different from the person I was just seven days ago. A familiar stranger was staring back at me.

Some of the changes were easily noticeable. My black eye was swollen and puffy, making my face look distorted. The redness of my burst capillaries just looked plain scary. The dark purple bruise that rested on my collarbone and ribs also fanned out like perverse pieces of art. But the other changes on my body were much more subtle. They definitely hadn't appeared in just a week. But I reminded myself that the last time I had really studied my body was when I was hoping for more womanly curves to impress Alexander over a year ago. And now that I had them its not like it even mattered. Still, my breasts had become fuller, straining against the restricting cloth of the sports bra. They were off balanced by my much larger hips and bum. I looked like a woman. I knew though that Dauntless initiation would soon chase away any lingering softness resting on my waist or thighs. Sighing at the unimportance of vanity after all, I turned away.

I wanted to linger in the shower to lull myself into a more fatigued state, but the water wasn't hot enough and the shower floor wasn't clean enough. Still, the day's events had caught up with me and by the time I made it to my worn cot, I wearily crawled into it.

Not even ten minutes past and my eyelids were sealed shut, my mind on the cusp of dreamland, when the door banged open, and my eyes with it. The sound of Justice's deep laugh and Ian's sloppy, but frantic shushing reached my ears. I silently prayed that I wasn't going to unintentionally eavesdrop on a hookup.

"Oh my scales, look, its Lyra! I _looovve_ Lyra! She is my new best _frieennd_," Justice slurred, and I could hear the unsteady thumping of her boots approaching me. I sincerely hoped she wouldn't try and wake me up for conversation. I was tired and had no patience for having to deal with her drunkenness.

"Don't wake her up Jay," Ian said sounding a tad more sober, "she's had a really rough day," he whisper shouted. Emphasis on the _shout_.

"I know, she was pouting about it all day," Justice said flopping onto her cot. "But then again her eye looks _nasty_!"

I couldn't quite put a name to the feelings coursing through me as she said these things about me. Anger didn't quite seem right, perhaps annoyance at the fact that these two who I considered my closest friends here were gossiping about me. And just a touch of humiliation bled through my conscious. No one liked to be called out on their coping mechanisms, even if it wasn't to their face.

"Yeah, but I don't think I would be all sunshine and smiles if I lost my first fight. Especially since that leader guy Eric was watching."

Out of my nearly shut eyes I saw Justice roll over to face me. I closed my eyes fully and kept my breathing even. But I don't think it mattered, it was too dark and they were not sober enough to tell the difference between fake sleep and real sleep. And in that moment I remembered my father scolding me for eavesdropping on one of his business meetings. He said that listening in on private conversations was a nasty habit that bred paranoia. But I couldn't help but listen as this conversation was clearly focused on me.

"I wonder why they paired her with Henry?" Justice sing-songed. "Obviously she wasn't going to win." I almost flinched as Justice's inner Candor made another appearance.

"Maybe they wanted to test how uneven opponents would strategize an attack and defense against each other, or maybe she pissed Four off," Ian replied.

"I don't think so," Justice said, her voice losing its dreamy quality, and sounding much more sober. "That Eric guy used to watch me-"

"-I know," Ian cut her off.

Justice giggled, "Don't be jealous. He stopped paying attention after training yesterday when Lyra started sprouting out all these super technical fight stuff." So maybe she wasn't so sober… "Now he looks at her. Did you see how he was watching her during her fight? Even at breakfast today he scanned our group, and I think he was looking for her. Pity she eats so early."

"Do you really think having Eric's attention on her is a good thing?" Ian questioned.

Justice shrugged, "Maybe he will help her." Ian snorted, and internally I agreed. Eric didn't seem like the helpful type, but he contradicted my thoughts on him, as he offered me fighting advise in the gym (well more like criticism). "Am I a bad person for being slightly glad that he is not focusing on me anymore?"

I tried to remind myself that Justice was from Candor and she was used to saying every wretched thought she had out loud. And that I too sometimes had horrible thoughts about the people I cared about. What I couldn't forgive was their blatant carelessness at admitting these things in my hearing range. Things that I would almost prefer _not _to hear.

"You're not a bad person for not wanting his attention. But you don't really want it on your friend either do you?" Ian questioned.

Justice sighed, "No, of course not. That guy looks like a psycho."

Ian and Justice both broke into boisterous laughter, and when they finally calmed down Ian asked, "Do you think she will make it through initiation?"

And the silent pause that said more than words ever could, _stung_ me. To know that not even my closest friends here were confident in my abilities.

"I think so," Justice finally said, and I felt myself exhaling in relief. "Underneath that demure smile, I think she is ruthless."

Their conversation strayed into meaningless topics to me, so I stopped paying attention. And in that moment I hated my friends. My body was aching with exhaustion, begging me for sleep, but they had re-awoken my mind. I wanted to run another ten miles just to stop everything. But I resolutely snapped my eyes shut.

The next time I opened my eyes I felt disoriented and sore- _extremely sore_, more so than yesterday. I sat up in my cot, my limbs stiff and muscles protesting. My eyes scanned the dorm and only two other cots were occupied- Ben and Marina's. Where was everyone else? I thought that at least Justice and Ian would still be passed out and sleeping off the after effects of their overindulgence of alcohol. But I wasn't sure if I felt relief at the fact that they were gone, as I didn't quite know how to act after hearing what I heard last night.

I didn't linger in my warm blanket though. I was never one to laze around. Unless I was snuggled up to the naked body of the man I loved, I had no use for staying in bed all day- it was a waste of time. So my battered body went through its daily motions- put on clothes, brush hair, brush teeth… My trek down to the Dining Hall took slightly longer than normal, seeing as my beating and the subsequent midnight run did nothing for my aching limbs.

I didn't check the clock in the dorms, so I was surprised to note the bright sunlight streaming in through the Dining Hall's glass ceiling. It must be later in the morning than I thought.

"Lyra!" a voice called, and I looked over to see Henry waving at me from his space at a table between Ian and Patrick. Justice was slumped across the table from them, her head in her arms.

"Good morning," I said, sliding into a seat beside Patrick, instead of Justice. Childish-yes, but I'm not perfect. Justice managed to lift her hungover head and send me a questioning look, but I didn't glance at her.

"You missed breakfast, but I saved you a muffin. And your eye looks much better today!" Ian feebly said after a pause. Candors were awful liars.

"Thanks," I replied with a tight smile. I saw my eye in the mirror this morning when I was brushing my teeth, and if anything it looked worse, the puffiness receding to splotched purple, and the redness still webbed over the white. And I had heard their comments about it last night after all. "But I think it looks rather _nasty_," I said pointedly staring at Justice.

It took a moment, but Justice's eyes widened and I heard Ian cough. They seemed to have finally caught onto what I was conveying. The table hung in awkward silence as Henry and Patrick clearly tried to grasp what was going on. I plucked the wrapping off my muffin.

"So, uh, did you sleep well?" Henry asked, sounding unsure of his question.

"Not really," I said, still focused on the food. "I'm a light sleeper. Even the chirping of birds will wake me up."

I knew the two birds in question would understand my meaning. Henry and Patrick though didn't.

"I guess it's lucky we don't have to hear that anymore, being underground," Patrick said, with an unsure smile at me.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," I said, not bothering to smile back.

Once again an awkward silent pause, where Ian and Justice traded slightly panicked looks. I would have felt slightly guilty at calling them out, but they had made it entirely too easy for me to overhear them last night.

"So what are you doing with your day off?" Henry questioned Patrick.

Patrick rubbed his neck, his face blushing a faint pink, "I thought I would visit Claire, see how she's doing."

Henry nodded, "Yeah, I hope she is going to be okay. What about you two?" he asked, looking at Justice and Ian.

Justice shot me an uneasy look, "I was hoping to go shopping with Lyra again."

I folded my now empty napkin and finally looked up to meet her dark eyes. "I can't, I have to go talk to Four." I looked at the clock situated over the leader's table, "I should get going actually." I stood to my feet and collected my trash, hoping the two Candors wouldn't follow me. I wasn't in a very forgiving mood.

As I hobbled out to the hallway, I let out a sigh. And even though I used Four as an excuse, I actually thought of a question for him. Only I figured it was his day off too, and I didn't know where to find him.

It was much easier than I anticipated though, as I spotted him across the Pit. He was talking to a tall dark skinned man with spiky black hair. I debated the pros and cons of interrupting him, but it was his job to help initiates after all. So I moved through the throng of people, trying not to wince every time of got bumped into or shoved out of the way.

Four's genuine smile dropped when he noticed my approach. "Lyra," he nodded, his eyes flickering over my damaged one.

A blank look blossomed on my face. We were in a public place, and public meant politics- I could not afford to show any weakness, despite my rather obvious embarrassment lingering in the form of a black eye. Not to mention even though Four seemed less bloodthirsty than Eric, he was still very intimidating.

Four's friend did not seem so annoyed by my presence though, as he shouldered past my trainer and held out his hand, "Well hello there beautiful, I'm Zeke."

I could feel my stoic mask falter, as amusement lifted my brows, I knew I looked anything but beautiful today. But still, I took the offered hand and shook it purposefully, "Lyra."

"Need something?" Four questioned, interrupting our handshake.

My eyes moved between Four and Zeke, until Zeke finally acknowledged my nonverbal request, "I'll leave you two to talk."

Four rolled his eyes for a moment, demonstrating another brief glimpse of personality, before he turned back to me.

"I would like your permission to leave the compound today." When Four's expression remained the same, I took it as my cue to continue and reluctantly added, "I would like to visit a library."

He pushed off the railing he was leaning against and brought his head closer to me, "I'm assuming you left Erudite for a reason- all transfers do. And yet you want to go back to essentially their territory? One lost fight and you're already tucking tail?"

The anger bubbling inside me was quick to rise today, "This has nothing to do with my former faction! I would simply like some materials."

"And how do you think that's going to look to everyone, you returning to Erudite Headquarters?"

Logically I knew that it was best not to provoke or demonstrate the condescending feelings I harbored towards a person with authority. But what was it with all these Dauntless men being so idiotic? "You are aware that there is more than one library in Chicago right? I would be going to the one at the Hub if you granted me permission." Permission I probably just threw any chances of getting away…

Four tilted his head and studied me for a minute, "I still don't think it's a good idea. Dauntless take loyalty very seriously."

"What do you do on your days off Four? Do you train all day? Spar in the morning, go shooting in the afternoon, maybe jump off a few buildings? People aren't that stereotypical to the dominant traits of their faction. I have more interests than just being one thing."

Four took a deep breath, "That's dangerous thinking, but if you're sure, than I will escort you to the train. You have to be back by dinner time though."

Four turned and beckoned for me to follow him. And today was the official day of awkward silences. I didn't know what to say, nor did I want to say anything to him. And I doubt he wanted to talk to me much either. I got the impression that he found me pig-headed.

"What materials are you studying?" he abruptly shot out as we strode through the twisting passages.

I didn't really want to consider small talk either, as I would have to remember how to navigate on my way back tonight. But Four was a trainer, so I didn't think I had a choice. "I thought I would do some research on combat, and…" I paused.

"_And_?" he prompted, turning his head to question me.

"And I would like to look at some books on art," I grit out. I hadn't shared my interest in art with anyone other than Alexander, and was kicking myself for blurting it out to Four.

I didn't think it was possible for so many bare emotions to flicker through Four's face. It was usually stuck on broody. "_Art_" he repeated in disbelief.

"_Without art, the crudeness of reality would make the world unbearable_," I quoted George Bernard Shaw.

He snorted, but said nothing, and led me to the platform. This was a different train than the one we arrived on. Its tracks slithered on ground level.

"Remember, back by dinner," Four said, before turning around and disappearing again.

I didn't have to wait long for a train to come whirling by. It didn't slow down, so for the second time in my life, I ended up chasing a train. I gripped the side bar and launched myself into an empty space. There were no seats, so I sat cross-legged and watched the city pass by. After a week of being underground it felt like heaven. Watching the blue sky, while the sun shone on my face, and wind tickled the short strands of my hair. I was no Amity, but I could appreciate the freedom that open spaces allowed, even if I was heading for the condensed centre of the city.

After twenty minutes, I prepared myself to jump off the train earlier than I needed to. But I would rather hit the decorative grass, than concrete. So with a massive leap, and a jarring impact I hit the ground and rolled. I wanted to lye down and collect the breath that just knocked out of my lungs, but people were milling about and I didn't want to appear weak.

As I entered the Hub, empty halls greeted me. Most of the students that occupied this area would be busy in their classes. Only two Abnegation dependants in the dull grey robes turned to look at me. The boy of what I would estimate to be about eleven flinched, and a girl who looked too similar to be anything but his sibling cringed at the sight of me. I ignored them and continued to the library.

Once I reached the familiar territory I was sorely tempted to move straight for the art or poetry section. But rational won out, and I headed for the stacks on combat and war. I dragged three massive tombs back to my regular secluded reading spot. And page after page I read about the most gruesome and effective ways to incapacitate someone. Pictures of torture or the after effects of massacres from the pre-faction world stared at me through the pages. I wouldn't call it art as much as a statement.

But when I had had my fill of macabre advise and pictures, I moved to the section that fascinated me the most. I knew this area of the library well because I frequented it most often in the last year. I knew that taking books about 'frivolous' things out in the Erudite library would cause my friends or parents to talk, so I usually retrieved them from here.

My eyes hungrily ate up each image, losing myself to art. And eventually when I had my fill of post-Renaissance images, I meandered through the poetry section. A little black book bound in worn leather caught my eyes. It looked vaguely familiar, so I pulled it off the shelf. And when I opened the cover and the title 'Pablo Neruda's Complete Anthology' stared at me.

A felt a clench in my gut as I remembered Alexander's voice,

"_I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair._

_Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets._

_Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day_

_I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps."_

"Lyra!" a voice called, rousing me out of my memories. I snapped the book shut, and turned to face the person.

I was shocked as I stared into the familiar face of Liz, with the added accessory of light silver framed glasses.

"Hello Liz, how are you?" I greeted, wondering how my old faction friend was doing in her initiation.

She smiled, "I am well, initiation is not so bad," she smiled, "And how is your initiation?" she asked, trying not to stare at my bruised face.

I honestly didn't know how I was doing in Dauntless, but I wasn't going to let her know that. Chances were that most people in Erudite would never understand why I left, and would idly wonder if I would succeed. "It's interesting, but going well."

"Are you okay?" Liz gently questioned, her eyes pointedly gazing at my eye now.

I fought valiantly for my smile not to dim, "Consequences of training, but I'm doing well."

"I'm glad," she said, and I was happy to note the genuine sentiment behind it.

We stood silent for a moment, not quite sure what to say to each other. "So what are you doing here?" I finally asked.

Liz grinned, "I can't tell you."

I smirked, "Part of your initiation I'm guessing." She nodded. There was just one thing I wanted to know before I departed from her. "How is everything at home? Any new gossip?" I was just praying that the hot news wouldn't be about my father losing his grant because of stress, or my mother publicly disowning me…

Lyra eyes lit in mischief, "Apparently on the first day, a Amity transfer ran for the hills when presented with the history tombs."

I wanted to laugh. The history tombs were something that Erudite children had to memorize before they started attending school at the Hub. But with how my own initiation was going I could feel some empathy for the other transfer feeling out of their depth- but zero sympathy at the fact that they gave up.

"And the hot gossip is that Alexander Ferraris, you know that really hot genius?" I nodded, my mind and body now fully attentive to her words. "Word is that hundreds of girls will be crushed because he is finally dating someone."

It felt as though everything around me stopped for a brief moment. Like the moment I was in that fight- everything stopped so my brain could focus on processing what I just heard… It _couldn't_ be true.

Liz looked down at her watch, "I have to get going Lyra, it was good seeing you," she nodded.

"You too," I mumbled. But before she could leave the isle though, a thought struck me, "Hey Liz, who is the girl he is supposedly seeing?" And I knew I didn't have enough control to play this off as some kind of nonchalant question. Because the answer truly did matter.

Liz paused and gave me a funny look, "Some environmental developer- Caroline Lumley, is her name I think. It was in the society pages of the paper and a lots of the girls in the dorms are talking about it."

I nodded and watched Liz go before slumping into one of the cushy seats. I didn't know if I believed it. How could I be gone for just one week, and he already be with another? Eight days ago he whispered his love to me before the Choosing Ceremony, and now he was with some other girl? It just didn't make sense… So I walked to the front of the library and collected the newspapers from the last three days.

But sure enough in the society pages of yesterday's paper, it read:

_**Heartbreak For All**__!_

_Alexander Ferraris, age nineteen is perhaps known best for his genius intellect and quick rising though Erudite's engineering doctorate program. He surprised the studious faction when he took on the position of Professor as a night job too! But what most young ladies know Mr. Ferraris for is his devastating good looks!_

_But it looks like this young genius is lonely no more! Alexander is smitten with the lovely Caroline Lumley, who was a transfer from Candor and now works as an environmental developer in Erudite._

_We wish the young couple all the best once we are done crying about the now 'taken' status of one of the most handsome men in Chicago!_

_-Sally Crilton, Daily Mail_

And below the poorly written article was a photo of Alexander and Caroline holding hands as they walked down Monument Park. My finger traced on the little ink imprint of Alexander's face. He was looking at Caroline with a radiant smile showcasing all his pearly whites. And I wish that the photograph captured more- the groves of his face, the look in his eye, the curve of his brow…

All week I had been driving myself crazy wondering if he was angry with me or sad. I had been more concerned with his opinion on my transfer than my own parents. The haunting questions of did he miss me tormented my mind. But now I knew the answer… he didn't miss me, and I was utterly replaceable.

I stood up and shucked the newspaper onto the table, disgusted by it. And as for the Pablo Neruda book, I shoved it onto a random shelf not caring where it went. Anger flooded my system- how could he forget me so easily? How could I have wasted so much time and emotions worrying over him? I stomped my way out of the library looking like a true Dauntless member, vicious scowl settled on my battered face. More students were in the halls, but I ignored them and they quickly retreated out of my way.

The train ride back to Dauntless Headquarters did not intrigue me like the last one. Now the sunlight mocked my bitter mood, and the playfully warm breeze only heated my anger more. I wished for a hurricane to reflect my emotions. I refused to be heart broken. When I finally made it back to the Pit it was five thirty in the afternoon and the dinner crowd would be squeezing into the room. Part of my mind questioned if I should check in with Four, but I was too angry to care.

"Hey Lyra, where have you been all day?" Henry questioned, walking beside me.

"The library," was my sharp answer.

"Library, Dauntless has a libr-You okay?" he questioned as he took in my poisonous mood.

I was anything but okay, but even if I wanted to pour my heart out to Henry, I couldn't. My relationship was forbidden in the first place, so I couldn't even rant about the injustice of it all. "Fine. I'm going to go nap." I cut off whatever question Henry was going to ask and furiously strode up to the dorm.

Four intercepted me before I reached the door, "You made it back I see."

"Obviously," I bit out, but shrank back when I saw the sharp look he directed at me. "Sorry," I apologized, "I'm in a foul mood."

Four studied me for a moment before nodding, and allowing inside the dorm. I fell on my cot and mused for a moment at why I didn't feel sadder about this? Caroline Lumley was someone who roused insecurity in me before- and to have all of my little doubts be proven in photographic evidence should have left me a weeping mess. Perhaps it was the Dauntless within me that chose indignation instead of self- pity. Besides my morose mood from yesterday vanished after my encounter with Eric. But despite the steady flow of anger at Alexander burning inside of me, I found myself falling asleep.

When I woke up, blinding darkness greeted my eyes and the snores of my dorm-mates. My eyes shot to the neon numbers above the doorframe. It was 1:22 am. I couldn't believe I had slept for so long, and that I actually didn't hear anyone come in. And my anger had simmered slightly. But I knew what I wanted to do now. Quietly I rose from my cot and slipped my boots on. I slipped out the door and up the winding passages.

When I got to the room, I cracked the door open, and the room was alight, but seemingly empty. I slipped off my boots and walked towards the treadmill. The clanging of metal against metal had me stopping in my tracks and snapping my head over to find the source. I froze as I saw a large body lying on a bench, just placing dumbbells back on their pegs. As the figure rose, so did my anxiety.

"Back again grunt?"

My eyes flickered between Eric and the treadmill desperately. I needed to run, I needed to let everything out. But the possibility of once again being alone and vulnerable with this seriously frightening man was off putting. But I also didn't want reveal how skittish he made me, so I turned and fully faced him. "I felt like running."

His blue eyes studied me again, but when he didn't say anything I awkwardly shuffled my weight from side to side before giving up our staring contest and going to the treadmill.

As the machine started up, I let my mind dismiss Eric's presence. My legs began their familiar motion and I returned to the thoughts that had been drilling at my mind all day. _Alexander_. Had he ever truly loved me? Was I just a stupid fling with an naive girl- a fun source of seduction? Were he and Caroline mocking me behind their backs the entire time? And with each question that crossed my mind, I dialed the pace up, my legs in tune with my fury.

I trusted him. I love him… I offered him my spirit, along with my virginity. And the minute I'm gone, he moves on to the next more beautiful thing? How had I once considered him more suitable for Amity when he was clearly so very cold…

"It won't go any faster," a voice from my side said.

And once again I was so lost in my head that his presence surprised me. I snapped my head around to look at him, sweat pouring down my neck as I practically sprinted.

Eric was pointing at the buttons on my treadmill, and I noticed that I had been jabbing the increase button even though I was at maximum speed. I sighed, and slowed the pace to a comfortable jog.

"Why are you really here?" Eric questioned, coming around the machine to stand in front of me.

"I told you, I like running," I said through panting breaths.

He looked almost amused, and it was strange how even an optimistic sentiment did not soften his face at all. "You're not just running, you're _angry_."

My eyes snapped to his smirking face. "I'm not _angry_," I spat out completely contradicting my statement.

"Mad at how pathetic you were in the fight yesterday?"

I felt a fresh surge of that exact emotion rush through me. I hadn't been exactly angry about it yesterday, but now it just added fuel to the fire. "_No_."

His cruel eyes wouldn't leave me, "I suppose I would be angry too if I knew I was going to be factionless soon…"

I grit my teeth and made sure that no emotion registered on my face. Instead I hit the 'increase speed' button again.

"-to know that someday soon you'll be living on the streets, until the day that the faction you hoped to get into has to put you down like a stray animal."

Another push of the button, while my stoic face remained steady.

"And to have all your friends pity you because they secretly know you wont make it and are just wondering when you'll be cut loose…" he continued.

But this remark hit a little too close to one of my aggravations today, and my mask broke. I sent the youngest leader of Dauntless my most disgusted glare.

He started chuckling, at first softly, and then gaining momentum, until his muscled chest was shaking. "It will almost be sad to see you go, you're probably the most amusing one this year."

I pushed the stop button on the treadmill and stepped off the machine, not bothering with a cool down as I headed for the door. This run was doing nothing- he was getting into my head, instead of letting me get everything out of it. My eyes remained on his gloating face, wishing I had the skill and alibi to reach up and grab his hair, smashing his smug face into the machine until that grin was gone.

"That's not why you're angry though is it?" he questioned.

"I have no idea what your talking about," I said, my voice nonchalant.

His gray eyes narrowed, amusement disappearing.

I didn't have the patience for another staring contest. As I had already discovered today, something about Dauntless authority figures made me lose my mouth filter, and I tended to blurt out unsavory things. Four may have sternly accepted it, but I doubted Eric would. So I tore my eyes away, and hated that I was turning my back to him, but I needed to leave.

"You need to start training your upper body," Eric suddenly said.

I was almost at the door when I stopped and turned around. Eric's eyes were still zoomed in on me. "You have clearly been running for a while so you have strong leg muscles," he said, eyes raking over my form in a critical sort of way that had my skin crawling with self-consciousness. "But your arms are weak. Take a break from running and train them tomorrow night." His gaze finally released mine, as he wandered over to a rowing machine.

I hovered by the door, not sure what to say in return. But Eric had pretty much dismissed my presence as he begun his workout, so I left with his words ringing in my ears. And my mind never strayed back to Alexander that night.

**A/N: Hi everyone, I hope you liked this chapter! I'm sorry it took so long, but I've been really busy at work. I'm trying to get as many hours in as I can before I go on mat leave. And I have baby brain, so if I don't write my ideas down they disappear from my mind…**

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I'm glad you were all excited for Eric, even though he once again proves to be a huge ass!**

**Please continue to review, as I would love to hear what you thought of this chapter. And we haven't heard the end of Alexander!**

**Nyx : )**


	10. Intensity

**Chapter 9:**

_"I couldn't shake_

_this feeling_

_that I had uncovered _

_more than_

_something ordinary"_

_-Nicole Gulla_

I wished that my day off had been nicer- or at least slightly more relaxing. But the dark cloud of anger and confusion that hovered over my head had made me waste the single day of reprieve that was granted. But worst of all was that I really could have channeled all that rage I was feeling into something productive if it had been a fight day.

As I walked down the uneven path to the Dining Hall I scowled at the thought of Alexander Ferraris ruining my day. By when I reached the hall, my thoughts were jarred as a hand grabbed my arm and dragged me off to the side. I hissed and looked up at my assailant. Dark pleading eyes met mine, but I didn't feel the overwhelming irritation looking at her like I did yesterday. Still, annoyance prickled my spine.

"I thought you'd still be in bed," I said, arching my brow.

Justice wrung her hands in front her, a wordless way of communicating her nervousness. Every single emotion was transparent on her face. "I got up early so I could talk to you."

I grabbed a croissant from a nearby platter and walked up to my usual table, Justice meekly trailing behind me. Meek was not a word I usually associated with her, so she must be really upset. When I reached the table a frown marred my face- Henry wasn't there.

"I asked Henry to give us some privacy," Justice said, timidly perching in the seat across from me. "Look Lyra," Justice said, her big eyes imploring, "Ian and I are really sorry. We didn't mean to make you feel worse."

"Why were you talking about me in the first place?"

"I don't know," she sighed, her eyes flittering to the tops of the table, a finger picking at the scratched wood. "I just saw you there and blurted out everything my drunk mind thought of. I didn't have too many friends back in Candor and I consider you one, so please don't stay angry."

And looking at those earnest eyes I felt my annoyance fade. My mother once told me 'weak people revenge, strong people forgive, but intelligent people remember.' And I would remember. But Justice was my friend, and I had to remember that honesty was a character trait drilled into her since birth, just like being a know-it-all was for me. And she did just drag herself out of bed at six thirty in the morning to grovel.

I smirked, "Alright, but next time you and Ian decide to have a gossip fest, make sure the person you are talking about isn't in the room at least."

She tentatively smiled, "So we're forgiven?"

Forgiven yes, but never forgotten. "Of course."

And with that final statement, the awkward tension dissipated and floodgates on Justice's mouth opened. I learned about every piece of news or gossip that had happened since I stormed out yesterday. I don't know why gossip is so frowned upon- any sort of knowledge, no matter how its acquired is valuable. Knowledge is power after all, but then again that's a very Erudite like sentiment.

Henry and Ian joined us ten minutes later, Ian smiling at me unsurely. I simply smiled back to let him know that I had gotten over my anger.

"So Lyra," Henry began, "Where is this Dauntless library that you disappeared to yesterday?"

I stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment. "There is no library in the compound. I went to the one at the Hub."

Justice choked on her orange juice, "You _left_!"

I nodded, "I asked Four for permission and he escorted me to the train."

Ian scrunched up his nose, "What did you need to go to the library for?"

Henry and I both offered him droll looks. "I like reading," I said, and once again cursed Alexander in my head for making me so blindingly angry that I didn't think to check any books out.

"Can't believe that Four gave you permission," Henry said thoughtfully.

"Why?" Ian asked through a mouthful of food. "He seems a lot nicer than Eric…"

"True," Henry nodded, and I definitely agreed. "I just didn't think that Dauntless gave us many privileges like that," he explained.

Justice snorted, "We're initiates, not prisoners. They can't keep us locked up in here."

I didn't bother to voice how naïve I thought she sounded.

"We should get down to the training room or we'll be late," Henry said, and we rose to our feet. A small mass of black clothing and different coloured hair.

When we reached the training room, all of us tensed, nerves immediately anticipating the awaiting threat. But instead of a chalkboard full of names and a blood stained boxing ring, a table lined with throwing knives faced us. The true danger however lurked behind the table. Four stood in his trademark ramrod straight posture and crossed arms, while Eric lounged against a pillar, picking at his nails with the tip of a blade.

It infuriated me at how nonchalant he behaved in such dire circumstances. This was a man who truly thrived on danger, and everything else appeared to be dull in comparison to him. When he finally decided to acknowledge our presence his blue eyes met mine and he smirked.

_Jackass._

When the rest of the transfers filtered in the room, Four finally broke his stance and said, "This morning you will resume practice with throwing knives. This is one of the more difficult skills to acquire, so Eric and I will be around to assist." It felt like we all let out a collective sigh of relief until Four continued, "_But_ this afternoon we will resume one- on- one fights."

And with that simple statement I felt tenseness creep back into my shoulders. And by the looks of it I wasn't the only one. Eyes darted around, as we all nervously sized each other up wondering who was going to have to take on who in the ring. I could almost fell a phantom throbbing in my eye, protesting at the thought of further battering.

Eric scowled as we all remained motionless with panic, "Take your knives and go!" he spat. And like nervous little mice under a python's gaze, we all scurried up to the table and grabbed at the knives with greedy hands, anxious to avoid those blue eyes.

When I reached out to take a knife, a hand appeared and offered one to me. I knew it belonged to _him_, so I wordlessly yanked it out of the proffered palm. I didn't even bother to lift my head and look him in the eye to thank him. A large part of my brain was once again questioning my sanity as I clearly snubbed one of the most dangerous men in Dauntless _again_, but I was sick of his taunting. So without a glance, I moved to a target. And that reckless part of me wanted to turn just to see the look on Eric's face.

I resisted that urge and took my place in front of a target beside Justice, letting my mind wander back to what Four had instructed us on knife throwing. I firmly planted my feet to the ground, but left my upper body loose. I practiced the wrist motions a couple times before finally taking the cold steel into my hands. And as I drew back my arm and released the knife I winced, already knowing that it would not hit its target. Instead of the red circle, it planted itself into one of the further rings. I huffed being both angry and nervous about my failure. I couldn't afford to not be good at this.

So I kept throwing. Knife after knife. Some progressively made their way closer to the bulls-eye, but it was never consistent. And none of them ever hit my intended target. Frustration was beginning to crack my cool exterior. Justice shot me a worried glance, but I ignored her, and kept flinging my failures.

I picked up another knife and lined my body into the proper position. Pulling back my arm I let my eyes focus onto my target. Nothing else existed except for my knife and that circle. I inhaled deeply, about to let the knife fly from the tips of my fingers when thick hands cupped my hips and a broad chest molded itself to my back. I sucked in a sharp breath of shock at the contact and my muscles tensed at the invasion of space.

"Your in the wrong _position _grunt," Eric's deep voice said from far too close to my ear.

I felt my body stiffen even more, trying to fight off shivers from his hot breath hitting sensitive flesh. And I knew that if I turned around right now I would probably witness an infuriatingly smug smirk.

Eric's hands pressured my hips in to turning left and his upper body forced my torso to follow the movement. When I started to shift my legs his large hands slithered down and clamped on the front of my thighs. My heart was beating so loud I could hear it pulsing in my ears.

"Don't move your feet or legs," he said, his voice a quiet rumble. "Just your upper body. That way when you aim, your arm will be lined up with the target and not off to the side."

I realized that I was still holding my breath and released it like a deflating balloon. And once again one of his strong hands slid up my body, the tips of his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps under my sleeves until his palm circled my delicate wrist. He drew my arm back, whilst pushing my hips into place and finally moved with me to throw the knife. I didn't need to watch to know that my knife would hit the target; in fact I barely noticed it. My mind was too busy panicking at his close and extremely inappropriate contact. _What the hell is going on_?

After staring at the knife, and letting my mind run wild at what Eric's motives were for practically groping me in public, I realized that he still hadn't let go. His warmth was an ever- steady presence completely enveloping me with his huge form. But it wasn't a safe or comfortable warmth- it rather felt like a flickering flame, quick to temper and ready to burn me to a crisp.

"Think you can handle that grunt?" the too close voice questioned, and the condescending tone snapped me out of my thoughts. I straightened up and shot him a cold look over my shoulder. And I was right, he was wearing an infuriating smirk on his stupid pierced lips, but his eyes looked so intense, _too _intense, so I quickly turned away and tried to shake off the feeling of his heat.

I strode over to the target and yanked my knife out of dead centre, trying not to be too jerky or sharp with my movements. I didn't want him to know how pissed off I was. Showing him any sort of reaction would only encourage his attention- and that was the last thing I wanted. But when I took my place again, I noticed that Eric was still standing near, watching me intently.

Mentally cursing him, I lined my body up exactly how he showed me before inhaling and drawing my knife back. I tilted my hips and kept my feet firm as I let the knife cut through the air and bury itself into the bulls-eye. But I didn't feel any triumph at my success- it was tainted by him. And when I turned around, scowl painted on my lips, hostility practically wafting off me, he was gone and Four was standing in his place looking completely bewildered. I glanced around and noticed that most of the other transfers were either outright staring at me, or at least peaking out of the corner of their eyes.

_Great_. Eric just painted an even bigger target on my chest. Because if people mistook his molestation for chemistry, they could think I was gaining favors with skills other than knife throwing. And I didn't want _anyone_ to even suspect that I was whoring my way through the ranks.

By the time lunch was announced I had once again worked myself into a foul mood. It seemed to be another common occurrence since my transfer to Dauntless. I threw myself into a chair in the Dining Hall, missing the looks that Henry, Justice, and Ian traded with each other.

"_So_…" Ian started, but I shot him a dark look.

Justice snorted, "_Come on_ Lyra, if it was one of us you'd be dying to know why the scariest man alive was practically fondling us."

My lips were pinched in distaste, "I don't know. I think he was trying to throw me off my game."

"Why would he want you to fail? They are suppose to be helping us… and you did hit your target after his…_help_," Henry said.

I hadn't ever intended to tell anyone about my secret trips to the gym, I didn't want anyone to think of me as bigger competition. So I quietly pondered how to explain Eric's actions. But it was hard to tell when I wasn't one hundred percent sure of his motivations myself.

"I don't know," I finally huffed, "Because he knew doing that would make me uncomfortable…" I said, but it came out more like a question.

Justice chuckled, "You looked like someone had just dipped you in ice!"

Everyone at the table laughed until a cold voice from behind me said, "Didn't think you had it in you to _fuck_ your way into Dauntless…"

I turned and saw Fern staring at me with Ben beside her. Her face betrayed an interesting mix of unwilling admiration and disgust."

"I don't even know why he would choose _her_," Ben said, eyeing me up like a particularly gross insect. "She looks like a freak with that black eye."

"Shut up you jealous pansies, Lyra doesn't have to screw anyone to gain respect," Justice casually said, shooting a pointed look at Fern. It seemed like everyone remembered my verbal dressing down with the Amity girl.

Fern dramatically huffed and, but let Ben tug her away to another table. Marina was conspicuously absent. We all traded eye rolls at the pair.

Ian remained quiet though, until he finally spoke up, "He didn't do that to any of the other transfers. He barked out orders, but he never- _uh_- touched us."

"Can we please just not talk about this," I said, almost wishing I hadn't. A cry for avoidance meant it was affecting me, and I didn't want anyone to think that Eric had any sort of control over my behavior.

We all spent a few minutes in silence just chewing our food before Henry said, "I wonder who we will have to fight this afternoon…"

And I felt my stomach drop as I remember that we once again had to face off against each other this afternoon. I became irrationally angry with Eric again from distracting me from this.

I ate a banana figuring I could use the protein, but couldn't stomach anything heavier. And by the time we had to march back down to the training room, dread had settled in my gut. I didn't want to do this again. I wasn't prepared, and my confidence was shaken.

The scene looked exactly the same. A boxing ring that had been scrubbed clean, but still displayed blemished blood marks like macabre trophies. The old world chalk board, and the two scary mentors- one stoic, and one excited.

I ignored everything, but the chalkboard. My eyes didn't have to scan the list long to find my name. I was the first one on the list. The first fight: _LYRA VS. MARINA_. I felt like this was Eric's unsubtle form of payback for snubbing him. To make me fight first against an opponent who didn't have to fight last time. Not only would Marina be in better physical condition than me, but she would already know some of my tactics. And the girls was a complete mystery to me- personality wise she blended into the background, and skill wise I had never paid her much attention. She had the advantage, but I had desperation.

"Lyra and Marina, you're up first," Four said, gesturing for the two of us to take the ring.

I scanned the mousey brunette girl looking for any obvious weaknesses. She was short, but weighed more. And I thought back to what Eric had told me- my arms muscles were pathetic, (he was expecting me to go train them in the gym tonight) so I was going to have to rely on my legs.

I crawled onto the mat, and without even making it to the centre she attacked me. A vague part of my mind informed me that this was probably because I attacked Henry first last time- she knew my techniques. I stepped out of the way of her tackle, and sent a firm kick to her ribs. She stumbled, but grabbed my ankle and pulled me down with her. The mat absorbed most of the impact, but it still jarred me.

And I felt that same primal force that I witnessed in Henry's eyes overwhelm me. I lunged for Marina's fallen figure and pinned her face down to the mat. Straddling her thighs, I kept her legs forced down with my weight. But she still managed to reach back and land a blow on my bruised collarbone. I let out a cry of pain, and instinctually grabbed the back of her head and slammed it into the mat. When I lifted her head back up I spotted fresh scarlet blood staining the mat.

"_I concede_," she choked out.

And a part of me could grudgingly admit to feeling as bloodthirsty as Fern had been with Claire. Because something about fighting made you not want to stop until you had obliterated the other threat. But I was slightly disgusted with this primal feeling- I was a rational civilized person, not a mindless beast. So I rose to my feet and held my hand out for her, not quite able to believe it was over so quickly. Marina took it, looking equal parts furious and pained. I couldn't blame her for being angry- but then again I was going to do _anything _to win. Medics in red shirts swarmed her.

We separated and the sound of chalk drew my eyes to Eric's large form. He was circling my name. I wanted to gloat at him about how I'm not completely useless, how I won't end up factionless, but I reined my ego in. He was _nothing_. Nothing but a huge pain in my ass at least.

"Ben and Justice, you're next," Four exclaimed, and Justice shot me a big smile of congratulations before climbing onto the mat.

I watched as Justice immediately ran at Ben and faked a right hook, before planting a firm kick with her left leg into his leaning torso. Ben winced, but shot his long arms out and grabbed Justice, twisting her into a headlock. And no matter how many times she planted her foot onto his shins or elbowed his wrist, he kept a tight grip on her neck until her eyes rolled back in her head.

I winced at my seemingly invincible friend's loss, but some small part of me couldn't help but feel better that Justice wasn't perfect. The medics in their red tee shirts all swarmed around Justice's fallen form, until they whisked her away to the infirmary. And I as I watched my other friends fight- Henry and Ian once again becoming victors I could feel my body prickle with awareness. Eric was watching me, which was stupid because he was supposed to be assessing our fighting skills, but I could feel his eyes on me. And I cursed his curiosity and my stupidity at catching it in the first place.

And as I sat watching the violence in front of me, feeling those cold eyes study my form, I decided that even if my head exploded, I was never going back to that gym again.

**A/N: Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. There was more Eric interaction, so that's always fun. And I am really having fun playing around with his interactions with Lyra (the next chapter will be full of them). **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter!**

**-Nyx : )**


	11. Ignite

Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent.

**Chapter 10:**

"_There is only one way _

_to get anybody to do something._

_And that is by making the other_

_person want to do it."_

_-Dale Carnegie_

The infirmary in Dauntless did not contain the same stark white harshness as the hospitals in Erudite did. Nor did it have all the complex machinery that accompanied the vast research that took place there, but it was fairly well stocked. The walls were still white, but made of arching bricks, which suggested that at one point it had been a subway station. The one major difference between this infirmary and the Erudite ones was that Erudite was always packed with people who were constantly buzzing around doing important work like bees, whereas this place was a ghost town.

It made sense that Dauntless would have to have a well-equipped infirmary- they were soldiers, and half of these people did completely stupid tasks in the name or bravery (e.g. _pride_). But I suppose it was that same reason that accounted for the lack of people. No one wanted to damage their ego by admitting they were in pain. But people like me, or in this case Justice had no choice when they were knocked out cold.

Glancing at my friend I admitted that it was a strange sight to see her passed out. Even in the deepest throws of sleep Justice always maintained a firm presence- snoring or thrashing around in her bed. But now she was unnaturally quiet and still. Her long form was neatly tucked into what I knew was a much comfier cot, her face devoid of emotion, long lashes touching her cheeks. I didn't really want to be here, but I figured I owed her.

Only one nurse in dark pants and a red shirt was quietly making the rounds to the two other patients- a young girl and an elderly man. I followed her methodical movement with my eyes, bored out of my mind. By the time I turned back to Justice her dark eyes were beginning to flutter open.

"Hey," I said, cringing at how loud my whisper sounded in this empty room.

Her eyes immediately searched me out, "Hi," she replied, her voice scratchy. And it must have hurt to talk because her long fingers immediately went to sooth the bruised flesh on her neck. "Water?" she croaked.

I obligingly picked up the plastic cup full of water sitting on the tray next to her cot. Justice moved slowly as she sat herself up and took the glass from my hands. She drank deeply before setting it back down.

"Guess we traded places, eh?" she said with a weak smile.

I smiled back not really knowing what to say to her. I was never good at comforting people, and now felt much more appreciative for the effort she put forth in trying to make me feel better after losing a fight.

"You were still amazing though. I don't know how Ben managed to stay up with you hammering at his ribs," I feebly offered.

Justice snorted, "You kind of suck at this making me feel better thing."

My eyes widened in surprise, and I let out a peel of laughter. Once it calmed down I acknowledged the now grinning Justice. "I know."

She smiled, her face still looking too pale. "I'm glad that you tried though…"

"Are you two having a moment? Should I leave?" asked an amused voice from behind us.

Justice and I traded unimpressed looks before shooting twin glares at Ian. The death stares didn't seem to bother him though, as he sauntered forward, silly grin on his face.

"Hey Jay," he said, his grin melting into a soft smile when he reached her cot and brushed a finger over her hand.

"Hi," Justice replied in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

My eyes swiveled between the two of them- Ian with his shy bashful smile and Justice with her reddening cheeks. I took this as my cue to leave. "I'm glad you're feeling better. I should get going though," I said.

"Oh, are you sure you can't stay?" Justice asked, her eyes barely peeling away from Ian to look at me. I sent her a knowing look, which caused Justice's blush to deepen. "See you later Ly."

Ian parroted the statement, but I was already out the door.

It was close to dinner so I figured that Henry would already be in the Dining Hall with Patrick, unless Patrick was still upset about Henry beating him. But Patrick didn't seem like the type to dwell on loses. Truthfully Patrick didn't seem the Dauntless type at all, and I don't know why he transferred here. But he was entirely too _boring _for me to even care to find out.

When I reached the Dining Hall my assumptions were proven correct. Patrick and Henry sat side by side with Marina across from them. The two were eating in amicable silence, while Marina was chatting away. I was taking by surprise by the mousy girl though; I had never heard Marina speak a word before.

"Do you mind if I join you?" I asked, once I reached the table. Three heads snapped up to look at me. I knew that Henry wouldn't mind, and neither would Patrick. But I wasn't quite sure about Marina, especially after our fight today. Everything about this girl seemed a total mystery and that didn't sit quite well with me. I was used to being able to read people.

"Sure," Marina blankly said, pulling out the only vacant chair next to her.

I tentatively sat down and smiled at Henry. The silence that had seemed so friendly became immediately strained when I sat down and I stifled the urge to shift uncomfortably in my seat before helping myself to the bowl of pasta.

"So how is everyone else liking initiation so far?" Patrick nervously asked and we all turned our eyes on him. He shot us a weak smile.

Though his question was a poor attempt at breaking the ice, it did make me internally question- how _did_ I like Dauntless? So far initiation had been hell on my body, and certain people had wrecked havoc my mind, but it also brought a strange sense of freedom to me.

"I like it so far," Henry simply said. And though Henry was still massively intellectual I could see how he fit in here. Quiet, but fierce- a perfect soldier.

"It's- it's very different," Marina said, hesitantly looking over at me. And I got the feeling that she was just as confused by me as I was by her.

"Big change from Candor?" I idly questioned.

Her dark eyes studied me for a moment, and they were so different from Justice's. And despite both of them growing up in the faction of honesty, I found Marina's body language to be so restricted, unlike my tall friend. Nothing about her hinted at what she was truly thinking or feeling.

"Very big change," was all she said.

"And you Lyra? How do you like Dauntless?" Patrick asked, his earnest face turning to me.

I almost sighed at the puppy like expectation on his face. "It's been _interesting_," I said, shoveling a forkful of noodles into my mouth to keep me from elaborating. And it's not like that was a lie, my time here had been interesting. I just wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing yet.

"Oh my goddess, have you heard about Claire?" exclaimed a very familiar drawl.

I turned around but Fern's pale eyes were focused on Marina, who's posture had become very stiff.

"No, what about Claire?" Marina said slowly, as if she was choosing her words carefully. That was a trait she had undoubtedly picked up from Candor. She may not have been allowed to lie, but she could be careful with what and how she told things. A useful skill to have- that just made her all the more dangerous though.

Fern ignored the rest of us sitting at the table. "Apparently she left the infirmary this morning."

I had wondered why I didn't see her there.

"That's wonderful news," Patrick said, a large smile spreading across his innocent face.

But I knew all too well that that couldn't have been all to the story. The sly tilt to Fern's thin lips would not have been nearly so satisfied at having another transfer finally recovered, especially when she put her there in the first place.

Fern's brows lifted haughtily, "Yes wonderful news indeed. I'm sure you two will be reunited soon…" Patrick's smile just got wider and I actually felt bad for him. "Because the pathetic little wimp dropped out. So when you too find yourself factionless, at least you'll have each other."

Patrick's smile vanished in an instant, along with most of the colour in his face. Henry too looked shocked, but Marina didn't. And truthfully I wasn't too surprised at Claire's choice to leave. She hadn't made much progress in training and had almost been killed in her first fight. But still, it was alarming that someone would actually _choose _to be factionless. I suppose she wanted to leave with what she considered dignity. Too bad most people in Dauntless would consider it cowardice.

When Patrick's chair scrapped the floor loudly as he hastily got to his feet, Fern smirked again, "Don't bothered going to the dorms, I already checked. She's gone." And with that last piece of terrible news she sauntered down to Ben's table, a spring in her step.

Patrick slumped back down in his chair looking devastated. Henry whispered something to him, and Marina patted his arm soothingly. I just shoveled the rest of my food into my mouth, eager to leave. I had already been put in one awkward situation where I had to comfort someone earlier today and that was for Justice, who I was much closer to.

"I think I'm going to head up early," I said, finally pushing my plate away.

Henry looked away from Patrick's crushed face to me. "Alright, goodnight Lyra. And I hope you're doing okay too. I know you and Claire were bunk mates."

I offered Henry and the rest of the table a bland smile before turning around and taking off. The truth made my stomach curl slightly. Because a large part of my brain informed me that though Claire was nice, she was one more competitor, and now she was gone. One less person to have to worry about. And that was a horrible thought considering what happened to her, what probably _is _happening to her now, but I couldn't help it. If I was anything, it was a realist _and_ a survivor.

I took a long drawn out route back to the dorms, trying to clear my head and contribute to the mental map I was making of Dauntless. By the time I reached the dorms it was still early, but an acceptable time to go to bed. And I knew my body could use the extra sleep. I changed into my sleep shorts and brushed my teeth before climbing into my cot. But as I lay on my side I notice the cot beside me was stripped bare. _Claire's cot._

Claire, who was so quiet and unassuming. Claire, who you could just tell had no place amongst the violence. Claire, whose red hair stood out against the midnight materials. Claire, who Eric eagerly sent into the ring only to get beaten senseless. Claire's empty cot- and in a couple of hours, days, or weeks could be my empty cot. _I cannot be weak. I cannot fail. I cannot be weak. I cannot fail. I cannot be weak. I cannot fail. _It was a mantra that lulled my mind into a distracted sleep.

But still my body jolted awake in the middle of the night, the symphony of snores echoing around me. My eyes shot over to the neon wall clock- twelve seventeen. The perfect time to go to the gym. But when my eyes strayed over to that empty cot again, I remained firmly tucked into my covers. I wasn't going to see _him _again.

When I woke in the morning my body immediately protested. My system felt out of whack. And despite the large amount of sleep I just woke up from, I felt like a drained battery. But still I went through the motions of showering and putting on my black clothing before having breakfast. Henry was alone in the Dining Hall when I arrived.

"Good morning," I said, plopping into the seat across from him and stirring my oatmeal.

"Morning," Henry said, sipping his coffee. After a moment he decisively set the mug down and stared at me. "Can I ask you something Lyra?"

I looked up from my food and really scanned Henry. Dark purple blotches clung under his eyes. His blonde hair looked slightly more disheveled then normal. "Sure," I carefully answered.

"If you loved someone, would you change factions to be with them, or even drop out entirely?" Henry asked his brown eyes focused intently on my green ones.

I felt like ice had been poured down my spine at this question. Because despite loving someone, I didn't remain in the same faction- I actually switched. Maybe that made me selfish, maybe _I'm_ the unusual one.

"I don't know if I'm the best person to ask, but I don't think that is too common. Most people believe that couples tend to have healthier relationships when they share the same traits, which is why we tend to stick to our own factions. As for going factionless, I don't know. I can't picture myself ever being in a position where I would have to consider that. Sometimes though, you just have to do whats best for yourself."

And if it came down to Alexander being factionless and me standing in front of those five bowls again, my blood still would have hit the coals, especially after finding out that he clearly had no problems replacing me.

"Why do you ask?" I questioned after coming out of my thoughts.

Henry bit his lower lip and for a moment my eyes darted down to follow the movement. I felt a tightening in my belly- my hormones were informing me that they were not happy about my recent sexual regress. I ignored them as I would only ever see Henry as a friend. Even if he was an attractive one.

"Last night after you left Patrick told me that he was considering dropping out because of Claire."

My eyes widened in horror. "Are you serious?"

Henry eyed the tables around us before learning closer, "Please don't tell anyone. You know how they are about loyalty here, but he kept going on about it last night. I didn't know what to tell him."

I scoffed, "That's just crazy. He doesn't even know her that well."

Henry looked conflicted- probably because he actually liked Patrick. "I don't know. I told him to take some time to think about it."

"Sage advice," I said before returning my attention to my oatmeal. And that was the end of the issue, or so I thought.

Just an hour later, when all of us were heading to the training room, I got my first look at Patrick since he heard the news of Claire's departure. If I thought Henry looked disheveled, it was nothing in comparison to Patrick. Dark bags hung to a much paler looking face, and he walked with a distinct slump. It was hard to believe that someone could go through such a radical change overnight- and this was coming from me who was still sporting a now green tinged eye.

Justice had spent the night in the infirmary, and Ian's empty cot suggested that he did too. They joined the group of us as we walked down to the training rooms. Henry filled them in about Claire on the way, and I watched my two friends absorb the information. Sympathy, along with relief etched itself onto their expressions.

When we reached the training room, Four and Eric were once again standing in front of a table of knives. Eric's steel eyes immediately searched the group as we entered, honing in on me. But instead of the viscous amusement, or condescending curiosity that usually lurked there, I was met with only hardness. No anger, no irritation- nothing to hint at how he felt about me standing him up at the gym last night.

"You know what to do," Four said, gesturing to the knives.

We all moved forward, but I felt my feet dragging. My eyes were worriedly fixed on Eric, who was still staring at me as he fiddled with a much bigger and more deadly looking knife. I shook my head a bit- I couldn't let him affect me. I had to focus. So I determinedly strode up to the table and grabbed three blades. This time no hand shot out to offer me one. If anything that made me feel slightly _more _troubled. I moved to the target beside Justice and unfortunately Fern took the one on my other side. I ignored her as I took the position that Eric had _demonstrated_ yesterday.

But before I could throw my first knife Eric's voice boomed out, "Today you are going to move back another ten feet before throwing."

Justice scrunched her face up in dread and I had to stifle my laughter at her expression. Something told me that Eric was not in a tolerant mood today, and I did not want to be the one that set him off. I moved back the required distance and once again took position. But this time when I threw my knife it landed short, not even hitting the target. I heard Fern snickering and willed my face not to redden. I picked up the next knife and put more force behind my throw- but this time my force caused it to swerve slightly and it landed on one of the outer rings.

I let out a deep breath, and took my time to line myself up properly. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Fern's knife hit the target with the blunt edge. I couldn't have wiped the smirk off my lips if I tried. My arm drew back, but a powerful hand gripped it. Startled, I turned and met sizzling blue eyes.

"You're arms are _weak_ grunt, you're going to have to put more effort into you're throws," Eric growled, flinging my wrist from his grasp.

I wanted to rotate my wrist to make sure his bear-like hand hadn't snapped anything, but didn't dare with him still standing behind me. Instead I drew my arm back and threw the knife again. It didn't hit bulls-eye, but it did manage one of the inner circles. Somehow I already knew that wasn't going to be acceptable.

"_Pathetic_ grunt," Eric snarled, his breath whipping my hair around my ears.

I ignored him and went to collect my knives. He was still standing there when I returned. Internally groaning and pleading _why me_, I resumed my stance. My next throw inched closer to my target, but still didn't manage to hit it.

"I don't know why I even bothered showing you the correct position yesterday grunt," he said. And I noticed that despite his closeness he made sure that no part of him was touching me. "Soon you'll be out on the streets just like that other girl. To _weak_ to make it."

Infuriated my eyes shot over to him. As I opened my mouth I noticed the satisfaction lurking in his face. He _wanted _a response. He was trying to provoke me into reciprocating. And damned if it wasn't working. My mouth snapped closed and I turned back to my target, flinging the knife at it. It hit dead centre.

My eyes peaked to see Eric's barely contained rage in the stillness of his giant body as he studied my knife. He slowly turned to face me creeping forward until he was just inches away. "You're _nothing_."

"Eric," Four's voice called from behind us. Eric immediately stepped away from me and strode over to Four.

I heard snickering from beside me and turned to face a devilishly amused Fern.

"Is he mad because you suck in bed?" she asked, crocodile sympathy on her face.

"Why are you so interested about what I do in bed?" I asked, planting another knife in the target. Fern flipped me the bird before focusing on her own target.

For another three hours we threw knife after knife at our targets, with Four telling us to back further and further away from them every half hour. The tiring, but somewhat exhilarating peace was shattered by a strangled cry. At first I thought someone had accidently cut themselves or someone else. But it was much worse.

Patrick had dropped his knives and fallen to his knees. No blood was visible around him. He put his head in his hands, his back shaking with sobs.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, as Henry carefully put a hand on his shoulder. "I just can't do this anymore. Not without _her_."

It was dead silent in the room as we all watched, not quite sure what to do, until Four strode over. He leaned down and spoke quietly to Patrick before hauling him to his feet and walking him out the room.

My eyes shot to Henry, who looked like he wanted to follow.

"_Disgusting_," a loud voice rang out. We all turned to face Eric. "See that initiates- that is someone who is _weak_," he spat, his eyes shooting to me for a brief moment. "Here at Dauntless we only accept the strong. And if you can't make it through stage one, you sure as hell won't make it to stage three." He seemed pleased by the myriad of terrified faces he had just created. Looking at his stopwatch he sighed, "Break for lunch."

We all swarmed together as we flooded the Dining Hall. Everyone, but Henry was talking about Patrick's meltdown. Some people like Ben and Fern were reveling in it with acidic amusement, while others like Marina and myself contained sympathetic neutrality. I was almost angry with myself for feeling more sympathetic towards Henry for losing a friend than Patrick for leaving. Justice and Ian thankfully didn't have much to say seeing as they didn't get to know him all that well.

After lunch we all filed back down to the training room, and reluctantly over to the mats.

My eyes scanned the chalkboard, but I didn't find my name. With my tiredness from my strange sleep and the dramatic events of the morning, being the odd one out from fighting was welcomed.

"Fern, Justice, you're up first," Four exclaimed.

I sat down and let my analytical eyes watched as Fern and Justice took the matt. I studied both their movements and smiled when Justice's bloody, but ruthless face smiled at her victory. And clamped down on my surprise as Marina overtook Ian. But through all of the fights a trickle of awareness informed me that I too was being watched. Unkind eyes from the youngest leader _burned_ me. But I paid them no mind and watched with fascination as Henry took to the mat against Ben. It was a close fight, and magnificent to watch, until Ben whispered something at Henry. My money said it was about Patrick. It enraged him- Ben didn't stand a chance.

And soon enough we were dismissed for dinner, my stiff limbs aching from inactivity as I joined my bloodied peers. Ian was in an absolutely vicious mood since losing to Marina. Overall it had been an eventful day and I was happy that I got to observe the fighting this afternoon. I now knew exactly how my approach should be with almost all of the other fighters.

As I munched on my dinner, I picked up the newspaper lying beside me, and ignored Justice trying to calm down Ian's fuming. The front page had a report on food distribution rates, and I scanned over any articles on Erudite and health care wondering if I would see my mother's name. I didn't, but an article did mention my father's lab working on a new serum for Dauntless…_Interesting_.

It wasn't until I reached the society pages of the newspaper that shock truly flooded my system. I ignored the article, not interested in its speculating gibberish. A picture did tell a thousand words after all. And whoever took this picture must have got a money load. Printed in black and white was a large picture of Alexander's lips fused to Caroline Lumley's. One bronzed hand gently cupping her golden hair.

I wasn't angry- rage didn't bubble within me. I just felt a deep sense of loss. That this person who meant so much to me- who taught me so much about myself was gone.

"What are you staring at?" Justice asked craning her neck over to look at the newspaper. "_Oh_ him! Such a fine species of man! Did you ever meet him?"

I could feel my head nodding in response but it almost was as if I wasn't in control of it.

Justice let out an annoyed huff as she studied the picture again. "GodI can't believe all that hotness is being wasted on Caroline. She was always such a _bitch_."

My head snapped over to look at Justice, who was still studying the picture, her lips curled in distaste as she eyed the ink form of the blonde.

"You know Caroline Lumley?"

"Yeah, she was my next door neighbor growing up. One of those girls who are willing to trample on anyone to get what they want. When we were kids she used to say the meanest things to everyone and always got away with it because she was just '_being honest_.'"

And with this new information I felt anger simmer within in again. Indignation that Alexander would chose such a viper as my replacement. Indignation at having a fucking _replacement_. And the anger remained brewing inside me all through the rest of the night. And though I didn't want to be within a mile of him at midnight, I trudged up to the gym, praying that Eric wouldn't be there.

If there was a God, he sure as hell never listened to me.

I opened the door and walked straight to the treadmill, not bothering to acknowledge Eric's hulking frame pulling weights. Surprisingly, he didn't say anything either and I was free to run. I should have known that the peace wouldn't last. After about thirty minutes of my feet hitting the tread, pounding out all of my emotions I finally felt a prickle at the back of my neck. And I literally felt like a little woodland creature that just knew she was being hunted.

A tattooed arm reached around my body and hit the stop button. The tread immediately stooped and I tripped, falling into the sidebar. I shot him an annoyed glare, but stopped when my eyes finally took him in.

Eric's tall form was standing in front of me shirtless. And I couldn't help but let my traitorous eyes roam over the muscled planes of his chest- where each tattoo surged in his skin, from neck to just above his nipples. Corded muscles that radiated power dripped with sweat that trailed down to that delicious v where his black shorts sat low. My mouth felt dry. But when I met his eyes again, I saw smugness and I knew indignation answered in mine.

I cocked my hip and crossed my arms, alarmingly aware that I was only wearing my tight black pants and sports bra. "Yes?"

His blue eyes narrowed at my unspoken defiance, "You didn't show up last night grunt. And here I was thinking you actually wanted to be in Dauntless."

My spine straightened. _I cannot be weak. I cannot fail_. "I wasn't in the mood to run."

"Running isn't going to help you," Eric snapped. "In Dauntless we don't run away from our problems, we face them."

Shock filtered my system, and I actually considered his words. All of the running I had been doing for the past few months- had it been a release, or was I simply running to chase away my problems? But when my eyes flickered over to Eric, my resolve hardened. It didn't matter why I was running; he was just trying to piss me off.

"I'm here now aren't I?"

Eric tilted his head in consideration, and once again his face seemed completely closed off. "But you came here to run…why?"

"Does it matter?" I deflected.

He smirked, "Not really, I'm just curious."

"Curious?" I said, raising a brow, "How awfully Erudite of you."

He flinched and my hawk eyes caught the movement before he could hide the automatic response. So he wasn't fond of Erudite- that was _interesting_…

But in the next second Eric's hard face and even harder hand gripped my upper arm and pulled me off the treadmill. "Come on grunt, I'm going to teach you to punch. That way I don't have to watch your pathetic attempts in the ring."

Somehow I felt like this was just a convenient excuse for him to attack me. But then again I would seemingly be able to hit him back with the perfect alibi. My lips stretched in a smile. Thankfully Eric didn't spot it, as he pulled me onto some worn mats. He turned to face me.

"Make a fist," he ordered.

Perhaps it was something about Eric that truly brought out the reckless Dauntless in me because I immediately felt myself wanting to fight back. To yell that I didn't have to listen to his commands. Except that I did. He _was_ helping me after all. So I made a fist.

He grabbed my hand, "Your thumb always has to be on the outside of your fist. Otherwise you break it." He tucked my thumb below my curled fingers and moved away again. "Now hit me."

I didn't need to be told twice. I drew my arm back and hit Eric in the chest. Pain blossomed in my hand. It was like hitting a boulder. Satin skin that was so deceiving as it enveloped steel muscles.

Eric grabbed my arm again, his fingers ghosting from my fist to the inside of my elbow. Shivers danced through my body, but I fought to remain focused.

"Don't punch with the flats of your fingers, use your knuckles. And make sure your wrist is straight. Put all of your weight into it."

"Where should I aim?" I belatedly asked, my eyes already focused on that same patch of skin. If I could at least get it to bruise that would be considered progress.

Eric smirked, "Wherever you want."

I decided that it was my sleep- addled mind that imaged his voice going deeper. I drew my arm back again and this time punched with my whole force. And to my delight, Eric actually stumbled back a step. I couldn't help the proud smile that took over my lips.

"Good," Eric said after righting himself. "But you are going to need to start lifting weights to strengthen your arms and wrists. That was like being hit by a five year old."

And the giddy bubble of success just popped.

"Now we are going to try something different. I am going to attack you from behind, and you are going to do whatever you can think of to throw me off or get away."

He waited for my nod of approval before moving away. And some still sane part of me was yelling '_this is a bad idea_'! Because despite his help Eric didn't seem overly fond of me, and this time he was the one potentially throwing the punches. I was so _fucked_.

When I felt the large hand yank my shoulder, my instincts led me to try and shake him off, when that didn't work I planted my elbow back into his ribs.

Eric swung me around to face him, "Good. That will wind your attacker," he said, sounding slightly out of breath.

He turned me around again and I waited for his next attack. It was agony that I couldn't see where he was coming from. But this time I felt one powerful arm wrap around my middle, caressing the bottom of my breasts, while the other splayed across my hip. And then hot skin pressed into my nearly naked back. I froze.

"You're supposed to be fighting grunt," his hot breath blew against my neck leaving a trail of goosebumps.

My toes curled, my stomach tightened and my breath let out in a whoosh. But my head was screaming at me '_this can't be happening_'. It was just like my sex-starved eyes watching Henry bite his lip this morning, just a passing awareness. Because it was simply not possible that I was attracted to Eric. And yet I could feel my nipples straining against the flimsy material of my sports bra, and knew my eyes were pitch black.

Eric slowly turned me around, his fingers burning trails against my skin as they brushed over me, until I faced him. Chest to chest, skin touching skin, and I prayed to every god there was that he couldn't read the absurd arousal my body was displaying. Finally my gaze met his and I almost staggered back at the blatant hunger displayed. His hands dug into my hips, pulling us flush, and I could feel the evidence that I wasn't the only one whose body was reacting.

I sucked in a breath and willed myself not to press my hips further into him. To not rub myself against his heavy erection and make things ten times more complicated for us. My body was pushing me forward, but my mind screamed at me. And with my remaining energy, I stepped back. His burning eyes followed the movement, darkening at the distance.

My mouth felt dry, "Its late. I should get back to bed," my hand gesturing to the door, but my eyes remaining fixed on him. His expression didn't change.

Finally I snapped myself out of the strange trance Eric had lured me into, and rushed to the door. I picked up speed and didn't look back as I rushed through the corridors. My previous thoughts echoing through my head.

_I was so fucked. _

**A/N: Hi everyone, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Things are heating up! But as the description says, this story is a slow burn and will remain a slow burn, despite some heated moments. **

**Sorry for the long break, but life has gotten busy! Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long, as we have some interesting things about to happen!**

**Thank you to everyone who had read/reviewed/followed/and favourited, I'm glad people are enjoying reading it as much as I enjoy writing it!**

**Please review and share your thoughts on the chapter!**

**- Nyx : )**


	12. Longing

**Chapter 11:**

"_Just because someone_

_desires you,_

_does not_

_mean that they_

_value you."_

_-Anonymous_

_The room was pitch black- a sort of darkness that completely shuts off your sense of sight. A type of darkness that seeps into your pores and leaves a chilling awareness ringing in your flesh. And chilling it was- my naked body was absolutely shaking from the bitter cold, but I dared not move. I was already lost in this sea of the unseen. _

_Awareness prickled at my frozen spine. _Something_ was coming. A figure that was somehow even darker than the darkness. My instincts flared within me and I turned and ran. If I hadn't run, I don't know what he would have done. But I did. And he gave chase. _

_The ground was uneven and never ending, while the air bit with sharp iciness at my wheezing lungs. And the feeling of vertigo shook my conscious as I tumbled to the ground. Sprawled on my back, like some kind of sacrifice to the now slowly approaching man. For there was no doubt that this figure was a man._

_He knelt down towards me and I could feel warmth radiating off his skin. I was overcome by a powerful need to crawl up into the warmth- to thaw myself out, body and soul and bask in his heat. I moved forward right as he lunged. _

_Pleasure shot through my body like a lightening bolt as his hot mouth found my neck. I moaned loudly and turned my face eager to kiss him, but he wouldn't grant me the pleasure of his lips._

"_Why wont you kiss me?" I questioned, wanting to feel those sizzling lips against my own._

"_Kisses are cold," he growled and instead that mouth made a scorching trail down the hollow of my throat. My breasts were aching in anticipation for his attention. _

_With his burning mouth leaving a hot trail of pleasure down my body I no longer felt the cold. I was on fire. And when his tongue flicked over a pebbled nipple I groaned loudly, pushing my breasts up further for more attention. I felt large fingers bite into my hips as he feasted on my sensitive nipples._

_Every nerve was alight with need, and my hips squirmed in an attempt to meet his. But those powerful hands held them down. A petulant moan of want escaped my lips. I wished I could take it back though when his mouth left my breasts... Until he started moving downwards leaving a trail of electric fire._

_Fire that was scorching my veins, causing pleasure to rush through my system. It was overwhelming how all encompassing his heat ignited me. _Nothing had ever felt so good.

_My legs opened instinctually, willing him to push everything he had inside of me. To fill me with his heat. Hot hands left my hips to settle on my thighs, and his sizzling breath teased my wetness. A sharp bite of teeth nipped the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, and my whole body shuddered. Finally those lips, that _tongue_ was so close to where I need it to be, my body was positively aching with need… And just as that hot tongue caressed my-_

_..._

Cold air ripped through my lungs, as I sat up heaving. My pupils dilated to adjust to the darkness, and hunted for the clock. Five fourteen am. I slumped back on the cot, letting the monotonous sounds of my dorm-mates' snoring fill me ears. My body was covered in a faint sheen of sweat, and I felt uncomfortably aroused. There was no way I was taking care of it the traditional way though, not surrounded by my peers.

I cursed my libido as I raised myself out of my cot and crept over to the dingy showers. Letting the water remain frigid, I stepped under the feeble downpour. As the freezing water bit at my overheated skin I cursed Alexander in my head. Sure it wasn't exactly his fault that I was aroused- but he _was_ the cause of my sexual awakening after all. I never knew the delicious burn of desire until he ignited it in me. But as my mind strayed over our past encounters, Eric's domineering face surfaced in my head. I groaned knocking my head against the brittle tiles as I thought about what happened last night.

I was _not _attracted to him. My body just experienced a moment of weakness. My senses craved the touch of a man, and he was just the nearest one…_right_? I shook my head, rinsing out the conditioner and ludicrous thoughts.

Eric was just not my type. He was too muscular, had too many of those god-awful piercings. His hair was blonde, and eyes slate blue. He was nothing like man I was attracted to. He didn't have bronzed skin, azure eyes and curled raven hair. He didn't caress my skin with a whisper of a touch or read me words of adoration. If I was going to engage in sex, I was at least going to be romanced first, and I sincerely doubted that Eric had even heard of the word.

I groaned aloud again. Why was I even thinking about this? Eric was just not an option. I may have crossed some lines in having an affair with my professor, but even I wasn't stupid enough to try and sleep with a leader. And just because we had a… well whatever it was we had last night, didn't mean he really wanted me either.

With this new outlook, and determination filling me I stepped out of the shower skin puckered and freezing. I was a rational human being, capable of controlling my body's natural impulses. Eric was not going to catch me off guard again.

I dressed quickly, but it was still far too early for breakfast. So I spent the remaining time that I would normally spend sleeping using a rusty old spare pipe from the bathroom as a weight and exercising my arms. I wasn't too prideful to admit that Eric's advice when he wasn't being a total ass was actually helpful.

At five fifty I went returned to my cot. Because even though Justice, Ian, and Henry were my friends I didn't know how they would feel about me practicing after hours. I didn't want them to think that I was trying to one-up or sabotage them. I just wasn't going to lose sight of my goal, even for my friend's sakes.

When Henry finally did get up, I pretended that I was pulling my socks on.

"Morning Ly, you mind if I take a quick shower before we eat?" He blearily questioned, rubbing at his eyes.

"Sure," I replied, lying back down on my cot. It seemed like since transferring to Dauntless no matter how much time I spent on the worn down mattress, sleep eluded me.

Not even ten minutes later Henry returned in black attire, blonde hair still dripping wet. He was quiet on the walk down to the Dining Hall, but I got the feeling that he was still troubled about Patrick's sudden departure. I kept silent and left him to lament his thoughts, while organizing my own.

As we sat down I helped myself to an omelet and Henry unfolded the newspaper. The tiny printed date at the top of the page caught my eye. _May second_. It was my birthday. I was officially seventeen today. Strange how last year this date marked such an important event. My legal transition to adulthood, my first relationship as a woman, a forbidden kiss…

However today felt like another ordinary day. After breakfast we would all go down to the training room and most likely practice throwing knives. The afternoon would consist of beating the shit out of each other to prove our _bravery_. Dinner and then going to the gym… _Going to the gym_. Should I still go? But not showing up would be a sure fire signal to Eric that not only was I a coward for avoiding him, but that he had an affect on me. So yes, I would go the gym, work out my arms and then vainly try and get some sleep. Another day, just like any other, which is why I didn't bother telling Henry about it.

Justice and Ian trickled into the room later, looking groggy, but at least they got up on their own. Normal small talk, normal people, normal food. But the first inkling that this day was not going to be normal was a very noticeable blonde heading in our tables' direction.

I had never seen Eric at breakfast before. And the little information that I had gathered from Justice and Ian late night drunken gossip suggested that he usually ate at a later hour, which was a prime benefit in my opinion. So to see him at seven thirty am heading towards us (please God let it not be for me) was startling.

The chatter at our table died off in an instant as Eric came to a halt in front of us. His cold eyes scanned each person for one chilling moment before they settled on me. No hint of the hunger from last night displayed in them.

"A letter arrived for you grunt," Eric said, his voice unreadable. I was bewildered. I hadn't known that we were _allowed _to send or receive mail during initiation. Eric clearly understood my train of thought as he answered, "Usually we don't allow mail during initiation, but exceptions are made for birthdays."

Justice let out a noise of surprise from beside me, but I ignored her, my eyes trailing down to the small envelope in Eric's large hand. He thrust it out to me, and I picked it up carefully. It was made of heavy paper- expensive. But when I turned it over and saw _Lyra James _scripted in elegant handwriting I knew in an instant who it was from. _Alexander_.

I didn't want to open it. Partially because everyone at the table was staring at me, including the ominously hovering Eric, and partially because I wasn't sure if I wanted to read what could possibly lye inside.

"Oh lets let her read her letter in peace," Justice said after clearly picking up my hesitation.

I shot her a grateful smile, while tearing open the envelope. I could still feel Eric's presence looming behind me, but held the letter at an angle that wouldn't allow him to read from it. Sucking in a deep breath I began reading:

_Lyra,_

_I feel like I have faded since you left. That my muse has gone, and without you I am an empty shell of the man I used to be. Nothing interests me. Art holds no beauty, poetry no meaning, and music no cadence. It is like the moment you walked out of that door you took my soul with you._

_I have so many questions for you… Why did you leave? If you knew you were going to, why didn't you tell me? Was it something I did? Did you ever really love me? But as much I want answers, I know these questions would lose meaning if I saw you. Motives would be trivial if only I could have you again._

_I have tried to forget you. I was so angry at first when you left. A betrayal that had thrust a honeyed knife in my chest. I tried to forget you with someone else. The moment I was with her I knew it wasn't worth it. That no one could ever replace you. Cheap imitations just sickened me, and yet I am now woven in a web that I will struggle to get out of._

_Today is the day that changed everything for me, for us. This day a year ago that my lips touched yours and I lost my heart to you. I love you Lyra. I __will__ find a way to see you soon._

_Yours,_

_A.F._

My gut clenched as I read over his words, his grief becoming more transparent with each sentence. Guilt immediately filled my lungs and I felt like I was drowning in it. How could I have ever doubted my sweet sweet man? How could I have thought such unkind things about him when confronted with his image with _her_? I knew his soul inside and out, and his heart belonged to me. The question was, did mine still belong to him?

"Happy birthday Ly," Justice said, nudging my shoulder as I folded the letter up. "Why didn't you tell us it was you're birthday?"

I looked behind me cautiously but Eric was gone. Turning back to my friends I answered, "Honestly I didn't remember until I saw the date on the newspaper this morning."

"You forgot your own birthday!" Ian incredulously stated.

I shrugged. Birthdays were never a huge deal in Erudite. Unless it was your year of adulthood, then it didn't really matter.

I awkwardly accepted my friend's well wishes though, but my mind was still with the letter. I felt angry with myself for doubting Alexander's actions and a fierce longing to be with him again. To spend the day exploring his perfect body, with interludes for food or music or art. A day where I could be myself without the pressure or worry. I missed those blue eyes, and crooked smile.

I was conspicuously silent on the way down to the training room, but Henry seemed to pick up on my melancholy and stopped Justice and Ian from prodding me for information. Marina too was sending me curious looks, but I hardly cared. An emotional storm was once again raging within. When did things become so complicated? Or was it always this way? A brief stint of peace and pleasure before a long drought of confusion and heartache…

The training room was not set up like it normally was. Instead Four and Eric stood in front of targets hanging from wires. This change in environment helped snap me out of my musings.

"Since you all have had time to grasp how to accurately throw knives, today we are going to be practicing on moving targets," Four explained.

He walked over to a machine and clicked a button. A second later one of the targets was zipping down the wire, and faster than I could blink Four pitched a knife into it. When it completed the course the target stopped and we could all clearly see the knife embedded directly in the centre.

Four turned to face us again, "You will all be completing this individually as there is only one track. While you are waiting you can either watch or practice on unmoving targets across the room."

Eric who remained curiously silent picked up a clipboard, "Ben, you're up first."

Ben walked over to the table of knives, while Four reset the targets. Fern planted herself down on the ground to watch, no doubt for moral support. Justice and Ian did too, but I doubt it was for the same reason. I wonder if they would get in trouble for heckling…

I wasn't interested in watching though. Instead I picked up some knives, and like Marina and Henry, I headed over to some targets a fair bit away from everyone. The one thing I missed dearly about Erudite was the calming solitude. In Dauntless everyone travelled, moved and _lived _in packs. At times like these it was stifling.

I grasped my first knife and thought of the letter. He _missed _me. My knife cut through the air and planted itself into the target. I _hurt _him. I let another knife sail. He said he was caught up in a web… My final knife whooshed through the air. As I went to retrieve them I thought on that last bit. What did Alexander mean, he was caught in a web that he would have a hard time getting out of? What web? What did he do? I cursed my rather active imagination as hundreds of horrifying possibilities sprung forward in my mind.

"So grunt, who was the letter from?" Eric's deep voice questioned from behind me.

I jumped, startled by his presence. I had no idea how such a large man could move so quietly. But then again, stealth was a deadly asset, and everything about Eric screamed deadly. When I turned to look at him, his face was unreadable, but he couldn't deny the curiosity in his eyes.

I tried for nonchalance, shrugging my shoulder, "Just someone from back home."

I saw his eyes narrow out of my peripherals, before I made another throw.

"Erudite is not your _home _anymore. You chose Dauntless, remember?" he spat.

I flinched. _How could I forget_? My choice to transfer had uprooted every single part of my life. The letter was just a reminder that in this liminal state I had no home. But I wasn't going to admit that to Eric.

"Fine, just someone from Erudite."

He passed me another knife, but when I tried to take it from him, he held it firm, "I'm thinking it was from a lover. After all, who else would call someone their 'lost _muse_'…"

I exhaled shakily, _so he did see some of the letter_. Thank God Alexander didn't sign his name. "Shouldn't you be watching the knife throwing? That way you can actually rank us."

His jaw clenched, but he didn't respond to my aversion of his question, I wrenched the knife out of his hands. But after a moment he smirked. "Those were some flowery words he wrote. Most Dauntless women like more aggressive men… Is that why you left him? You wanted a _real_ man."

I felt blinding anger for a moment and could barely see as I threw my knife. Thankfully it hit the target, but not even close to the centre.

Eric moved closer to me again, and my back stiffened. His nearness was far too reminiscing of what happened last night, and that could _not_ happen again… "Looks like I touched a nerve," he whispered, hot breathe caressing the sensitive flesh of my ear.

"Lyra," Four's stern voice called. I snapped away from Eric and turned to face the other instructor, who sported an intrigued look as his eyes darted between Eric and I. "Its your turn."

I avoided both Eric and Four's eyes as I walked towards the moving targets. Fern and Ben were chatting on the ground, as were Ian and Justice who lounged a little ways apart.

"Good luck birthday girl," Justice cheered.

I sent her a faint smile before taking position. All I had to do was approach this new challenge like a physics problem. Force plus distance would even my trajectory. I had to throw my knife _before_ the target moved to where I was aiming.

I nodded at Four to start the machine. Less than a second before the target moved into position I threw my knife, satisfied that it at least made a whack, indicating that it hit the cork. When the target stopped I saw my knife sticking out of the second inner circle. A small smile bloomed on my lips. _I was good at this_. It felt so nice to be good at something again.

Four looked mildly impressed. "Good job. You get two more throws and then its someone else's turn."

I nodded and took position again. The target swopped downward surprising me, but I still managed to hit it. Though not nearly as close as the last hit.

Eric seemed to have guessed my strategy, "You can't just calculate movement. If that were a real enemy you wouldn't know which way they were going to move."

I nodded tightly, accepting his chiding, but was not happy about it. The final target swooped left and I let my knife sail. When the target stopped I saw that I had hit bulls-eye. Justice and Ian cheered.

I smiled and moved over to sit next to them as Four moved everything back into position. I didn't know what Eric was up to, but I was determined not to look at him.

After everyone had had a chance twice with the moving targets Four dismissed us for lunch. Eric moved with the crowd as we flocked to the door.

"Lyra can you stay back for a moment please," Four's stoic voice requested.

I warily stayed behind wondering what Four could possibly want. He took his time with the targets, not once looking at me and I was half tempted to just make a run for the doors. Just when I was about to make a break for it, Four turned to face me, expression as always firm and unreadable.

"I'm going to ask you something and I want you to be honest."

Dread curled inside me. Conversations were never pleasant when they started like that.

"Are you and Eric having an- um- _inappropriate _relationship?" he questioned, stumbling over to word, like he was just as uncomfortable with the conversation as I was.

I considered his question. Open hostility, invasion of personal space, naked lust radiating from his eyes as his hardness pressed against my stomach. So, _yes _it was probably considered inappropriate, but I wasn't going to admit that. Eric was a leader so I doubt he would get more than a slap on the wrist, but me… _I_ could get booted out.

"No," I finally said, my eyes firmly meeting Four's. I knew the tells of someone lying and was not about to display any on myself just incase he did too.

Four tilted his head, "You had to think about it?"

I was tempted to fidget, but that would give me away. "He provokes me," I explained. Four's eyebrows rose, "Just meaningless taunts that I assume are used for motivation to do better."

"Funny how he has singled you out to do that to."

I needed to get out of here. I didn't have an answer to that question. It was something I myself was curious about. Why had Eric choose _me_ to devout his brutal attention on? Why of all the initiates did he pick _me_ to torment?

"I don't know," I truthfully replied.

Four's eyes narrowed, "Did you know Eric from Erudite? Are you two old acquaintances?"

It was my turn to be surprised. I had no idea that Eric was once in Erudite, especially seeing as he didn't appear to be overly fond of my old faction. _Interesting…_

"I hadn't met Eric until my first day here."

Four studied my face for a moment before sighing. "Alright you can go. But if anything happens, anything that concerns you, feel free to come tell me about it. I would be very wary of his attention if I were you."

I offered him a tight smile of thanks, but I knew his offer was bogus. I already knew that Eric's attention was dangerous. And I also knew that Four likely didn't have the power to do anything about it if Eric crossed the line.

When I joined Henry, Justice and Ian all of them were curious about what Four wanted from me. This time I settled on a version that was somewhat closer to the truth.

"He just wanted to know if Eric's behavior was bothering me," I explained, my eyes scanning the area to make sure the 'he' in question was nowhere nearby.

"Is it?" Henry asked.

I shrugged, "Its not bothering me per se. I've dealt with jerks before, but I would like to know why he is targeting me all the time."

Justice and Ian traded a meaningful look. Honestly,Candors were the worst at being sneaky.

We finished lunch in good humor though, my mind almost taken off the letter. Almost, but not quite. I was in such a jovial mood that I really didn't want to go down to the training room and beat on someone. Especially since Ian and Justice were amongst the people I had not yet had to face. And Eric was a dick enough to make me do it on my birthday.

But as I made way through the training room and scanned the list I noticed that it wasn't either of their names that mine was next to. Instead the sign read _LYRA VS. FERN_ and we were scheduled to fight dead last.

Fern shot me a smirk that looked like the cat that ate the canary. I ignored her though and focused all my thoughts on what I had known about Fern's fighting techniques so far. She was about the same size as me, and tended to use speed and surprise to her advantage. She often aimed for the ribs using her elbows, but forgot to cover herself during her attacks.

Justice was up against Henry in the ring and Ian sat out watching nervously. It was a long fight but Justice actually managed to win, twisting Henry's arm backwards until he yelled his concession. But Henry was off today, and I figured that if he weren't so distracted he probably would have won. Not that Justice wasn't talented, but Henry was born for this.

When it was time for might fight I quickly crawled on the mat before Fern could beat me too it. And just as she scrambled on and turned to face me, I curled my hand up into a fist just like Eric taught me and swing right at her jaw. Fern's whole body snapped back with the force and I ignored the pain in my hand as I lunged for her again.

She darted out of my way and managed to kick me in the shin, but I remained standing. Balance was crucial. I landed another blow at her sides, but her boney elbow knocked into my chin. I realized that I was leaving my head unprotected and ducked it down while cross kicking into Fern's back. She was too busy blocking my kicks that she didn't notice another blow coming. I hit her right in the face. I _knocked her out._

The medical team swarmed around the both of us and that was when I noticed I had blood dripping down my chin. Her elbow must have cut the delicate flesh there. And now that the adrenalin was starting to wear off my body I could feel the pain surfacing.

The red shirts escorted me up to the infirmary along with an unconscious Fern. I discovered that I much preferred her this way. My chin stung as they dabbed it with antiseptic. When I looked down at my knuckles they were angry red and swollen. One of the medics picked my hand up and prodded at them, I hissed in pain.

"Nothing seems to be broken, but we'll do an x-ray just incase."

I nodded, and followed him to the machine. The medic was right- nothing was broken. But the flesh was tender, so they put some cooling gel on it before wrapping it in thick bandages.

When I made it down to the Dining Hall, Justice and Ian cheered for me. Henry was still unusually quiet, and something told me it wasn't because he lost his fight for the first time.

"I think we should celebrate tonight," Justice said, as she forked an extra large piece of chocolate cake onto my plate for dessert.

"How? We don't have access to any booze…" Ian replied.

Justice rolled her dark eyes, "Well what about a piercing? Do you want to get one Ly?"

The thought of decorating my skin with metal never appealed to me. Though I could admit that some of the Dauntless wore their piercings quite well. "Not really."

Justice huffed, "And you won't get a tattoo?"

I thought back to the image I saw in the tattoo parlor. But not yet. I would only get it when I earned it; when I became a full Dauntless member. "Not right now."

"Oh, I know!" Justice exclaimed, shooting off the bench. "Lets go get our hair done!"

I considered it. It would be painless with no recovery needed. And I could make it as simple or drastic as I wanted. "Alright."

"_Yes_!" Justice triumphantly pumped her fist in the air, before dragging me off the bench behind her.

We got lost looking for the hair salon and ended up near the apartment district. Justice was having a great time exploring, and while I was happy to add a new section to my mental map, I was beginning to feel tired. Finally we reached the salon, and thankfully it was still opened.

A bald man with a large gold hoop jutting out of his nose greeted us and admired Justice's long dark hair. She followed him eagerly as he started talking about shaving a strip off one side.

I shook my head uncomprehendingly and followed a corseted girl with neon orange pin curls and her very large assets spilling out her…top.

"I'm Darla," she said as I stiffly sat back in the chair. All I could think of was how strange it was to meet a Dauntless named Darla. And what Darla was going to do to my hair. "This your natural colour?" she asked running her hand through the midnight black strands.

"Yes," I replied.

She nodded. And we both focused on my hair. It had been two weeks, and already the chemical straightener was starting to wear off. I could see the ends of my hair just beginning to curl where they brushed my shoulders. Usually it would take longer but I figured with all the sweat, and showers that I had recently, it was coming out quicker.

I informed Darla about it and she played with the ends. "So what were you thinking of getting done?"

I stared in the mirror unsurely, "Honestly I don't know."

"Well unless you want a pixie cut, I doubt you'll want to go much shorter." I shook my head no. "Then how about colouring it?"

I considered that for a moment. But I liked my raven locks; Alexander always said they contrasted nicely against the light green of my eyes.

Darla clearly picked up on my hesitation, "How about just one stripe of colour in your bangs. Subtle, but still a statement." I smiled and Darla returned it. "Now we just have to figure out what colour..."

Forty minutes later Justice and I were walking out of the salon. She had a whole strip of hair near her left ear shaved, and I had one blue streak through my side bangs. Blue for Erudite. Blue for Alexander's eyes.

When we made it back to the dorms I practically passed out on my cot. It seemed like everyone else had the same idea too. I felt slightly wary as I noticed Ben glaring at me, but reasoned there was nothing he could do to me surrounded by all these people. Especially when the majority of them liked me a lot more then him. And since Fern was still in the infirmary, I doubted anyone would help him if he tried to hurt me.

Even though my eyes drifted, heavy with sleep, I still woke up around midnight. I once again debated not going to the gym, but knew I had to show up. I had to prove to Eric that last night's incident didn't affect me.

So I crept up the rocky hallways and entered the gym. It was empty. He probably was running late, just ready to sneak up on me again. I eyed the treadmill longingly for a moment before sighing and moving over to the weights. Picking up two ten- pound weights, I pumped my arms.

It was so boring though, and my mind could think of much better things to do besides this, even if it was just sleeping. So I moved onto pushups, and the rowing machine, and even the treadmill. And at two in the morning I was panting, exhausted, and covered in sweat. I was _done. _

And he never showed up.

**A/N: Hi everyone I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Just to let you know that despite the slow burn the M is rated for lemons, so if thats not your thing, you might not like where its heading. **

**Four thy name is cockblock in this story, but it makes me laugh!**

**Thanks to all the people that enthusiastically reviewed my last chapter. I had a feeling you would like that last bit! **

**Please continue to review and leave your thoughts!**

**Nyx : )**


End file.
